City Light
by gd20
Summary: AU, future fic set in Chicago. Brittany is a dance teacher and Santana works in the police department. This is the complicated love story of a persistent Brittany and a protective Santana.
1. Chapter 1

Every morning, Brittany woke up at exactly 7:54. Not one minute before or one minute after. She'd then quickly jump in the shower and get dressed for work. By 8:36 or 8:37, she was usually out the door.

Every morning, Brittany started her day by going to the same Starbucks and ordering the same grande green tea. She had never liked coffee, but her daily cup of tea always woke her up as she walked the next block to get to the studio.

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, the blonde taught different levels of children's dance lessons from 9:30 to 3:00. On Tuesdays and Thursdays she worked with older teenagers and even some adults. Everyday after 3 o'clock, she and her co-owner of the studio, Mike, would catch up on the administrative tasks that needed to be taken care of to keep their business running. It had been almost three years since they opened the studio. Since then, they had to hire a few more more teachers to keep up with the growing class sizes.

Although business was booming, Brittany couldn't help but feel like her life was slowly turning into one big monotonous routine. Opening a studio with Mike was her plan B and she tried to stay positive, but at times it couldn't help but feel like life had dealt her the wrong cards.

...

This particular Friday morning, the line at Starbucks was longer than usual. It had to be the Friday rush, but despite the restless customers around her, Brittany was calm. It was probably because Fridays were her favorite day of the week...and not for the same reasons it was for everyone else.

Without fail, her friends begged her to go out each Friday night, and every time she turned them down. Friday nights were for her; they were for Studio C, different genres of music, and endless choreography. There was no place for time in Studio C on Friday nights. No time, no rush, no pressure; just dancing.

Brittany used these nights to push herself and to make sure that she still had the indescribable "it" factor which set her apart from the rest. It was what made her want to pursue dancing to begin with. No matter how hopeless she felt at times, she couldn't let go of her Friday nights. Giving up her weekend tradition would feel like giving up on her plan A, and she just wasn't ready for that yet.

Some Fridays Mike joined her, but Brittany could tell that he was just checking up on her. He was her best friend and the only dancer she had ever met that could keep up with her. She appreciated his company, but she hated that he worried. She didn't want to be that friend who was experiencing a quarter life crisis or something.

...

While waiting in line, Brittany flipped through her daily copy of the Chicago Tribune. The headline read, "City Sniper Strikes Again," and she quickly got lost in the front page story surrounding the city's latest crime spree. That is, until a sudden jolt of someone bumping into her from behind brought her back to reality. Brittany turned around to see a girl dressed in jeans, a white button up, and a black blazer.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," the smaller brunette said as she looked up from her phone and placed her aviators on top of her head. "I totally wasn't paying attention."

Before accepting her apology, Brittany took a second to study the girl in front of her. It was obvious she was flustered, but after she took of her sunglasses, it became clear she had just woken up too. Despite her groggy state, her beauty was undeniable.

"It's okay, no worries," Brittany said with a warm eyes as she reached out and softly placed her hand on the woman's arm just to assure her that it really was okay.

"I can't function without a coffee in the morning," the brunette blurted out, seemingly taken off guard by the stranger's kind gesture, which only made Brittany grin. Her smile appeared to have an infectious effect on the stranger as she suddenly seemed to be more awake than she was a couple of seconds ago.

"I completely understand," Brittany replied. "Except I'm more of a tea drinker myself."

"Really? I tried to like that stuff but I just couldn't. Coffee runs through my veins."

The brunette's quirky comment sent Brittany chuckling. The sound of her laughter made the stranger want more of the tall blonde standing in front of her.

"I'm Santana," she said, extending her hand.

"Brittany. Nice to meet you," the blonde replied in a coy voice.

"You too," Santana smirked.

The two stood in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before Brittany looked down at the paper in her hand.

"Have you heard about this? Looks like we've got another crazy on the loose," she said, directing Santana's attention to the headline of the Tribune.

The brunette formed a tight lipped smile and nodded before quickly changing the subject.

"So, are you a daily Starbucks drinker?" she asked, trying to make conversation.

Just as Brittany was about to reply, the cashier called for the next person in line to step forward.

"Looks like I'm next. But yep, I'm here every morning. Maybe I'll see you later!" the blonde said before turning to approach the cashier, leaving Santana smiling in line.

By the time Santana ordered and picked up her coffee, Brittany was gone. She couldn't linger in her disappointment for too long since her phone would not stop ringing. Work was calling.

"Yeah, yeah, Puckerman. I'm on my way to the station now," Santana said before hanging up and heading out.

...

Normally, Santana just grabbed a cup of coffee at work. It was terrible, but free, and it saved her some precious time in the morning. But after her run in with Brittany, it seemed as though she had a reason to visit that Starbucks again.

For the next week, Santana woke up a bit earlier in order to make time for her trip to the coffee shop but she still hadn't seen Brittany again. This was the last time, she promised herself. If the blonde didn't show up today, no more early coffee runs.

Since it was a Friday, the morning rush was busier than usual. Santana arrived a bit later than usual and took her place in line, putting in her ear buds to cancel out the craziness around her.

Halfway through the first song on her playlist, Santana felt someone tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see the gorgeous blonde she was waiting for.

"You again," Brittany said with a smirk, clearly admiring Santana in her usual dress of black pants, a button up, and a blazer.

"Hi," Santana said, trying not to sound too excited.

"Hi, yourself. I was wondering if I'd ever run into you again here."

"I've been wondering the same. You know, I've been here everyday this week."

"Oh yeah?" Brittany said with a smile. "Well, we must've just missed each other."

"We must have," Santana returned the smile.

The two waited in line and Santana noticed how close they were standing next to each other. She thought Brittany noticed too, but neither girl made a move to change their proximity.

"Hey, listen, do you maybe wanna get lunch sometime?" Brittany asked, she cleared her throat and continued. "I wouldn't normally ask, but I just want to eliminate this whole meeting by chance thing. And it'd be nice to spend more than a couple of minutes a week with you."

Santana could feel her cheeks blushing and desperately tried to contain her smile. She looked down and and hesitated before answering.

"I'd love to Brittany...I just, I can't."

"Are you sure?" she replied playfully. "Kinda seems like you want to," the blonde almost whispered as she stepped a bit closer.

"I do, it's just...it's complicated."

"It's just lunch, Santana," Brittany smiled.

"I know. I just can't," Santana said, evidently conflicted.

"Okay," said replied with a soft and understanding smile. "Maybe next time."

"Maybe next time," Santana agreed before as she was called by the cashier.

...

The girls' morning meetings became a daily occurrence after the two figured out what time they both liked to arrive at the coffee shop. The more they saw of each other, the more Santana could not get the blonde off her mind.

One particular morning a couple days after their second meeting, Brittany seemed to be in a better mood than usual.

"Wanna go for a walk with me later today?" she asked.

"A walk?"

"Mhmm. Last time you didn't wanna get lunch. I thought I'd switch it up."

Santana shook her head and laughed. She was just too adorable.

"I don't know if I'll be able to with work and everything,"

"Today? Or ever?" Brittany pressed on.

"I don't know," Santana replied with a shrug.

"It's complicated?"

The brunette smiled hearing her exact words from last time said back to her. "Yes. It's complicated."

The two paused for a couple of seconds, looking adoringly at one another.

"Are you with someone?" Brittany finally asked.

"No, no. It's not that type of complicated."

The blonde nodded with half a smile, seemingly pleased with that answer.

"Okay. Well maybe next time," Brittany said, deciding not to push it any further today.

"Next time," Santana agreed with a nod.

...

The two got their drinks, Santana her coffee and Brittany her tea, and made their way out of Starbucks. They made easy small talk as they walked down the block. Santana was clearly lingering as long as possible to avoid going to work, but there was just something about Brittany's voice that made her wish she could listen all day.

As Brittany was explaining her job at the studio, Santana's phone began buzzing incessantly.

"I'm sorry, Britt, I gotta take this really quick," Santana said as she looked down to see Noah Puckerman was calling.

"No problem," the blonde replied.

"What's up, Puck?" Santana asked, stepping away from Brittany for a short second.

"Lopez, you need to get here now. There's been another. The City Sniper's back."

"What's the address?" Santana asked as she looked up at Brittany, trying to mask her serious tone of voice with a smile. "Okay. I'll be there in a minute."

Santana hung up the phone and quickly typed the address into her phone.

"I'm sorry, Brittany. I've gotta run."

"Is everything okay?" the blonde asked, a bit worried.

"Yeah, sort of. It's just work stuff."

"I gotcha. What do you do, anyway?" Brittany asked, realizing that they hadn't gotten to that point in their discussions yet.

"Uhh," Santana hesitated, realizing the same. "I work at the police station on LaSalle Street."

"Ohh, okay," Brittany's curiosity was growing by the minute. "Are you a cop?"

"Not exactly. I gotta go though. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure, see you in the morning," Brittany said with half a smile.

As the blonde watched mysterious brunette jump in a cab, she checked her watch in anticipation for the next time they'd meet. She was going to get Santana to agree to go out with her if it was the last thing she'd do.


	2. Chapter 2

Yellow tape blocked off the entrance to an alley behind a local favorite convenience store, marking the scene of the crime. Several police officers surrounded the perimeter to monitor the crowd of curious people who were swarming just outside the tape to see if they could catch a glimpse of the work of the city's most notorious killer.

Santana pushed her way past the mob, flashed her badge to an officer, and walked fifty feet to meet her partner, Noah Puckerman, who was standing next to where the body used to be.

"Finally."

"Sorry, Puck. I got...caught up."

"Well it doesn't matter. You're here now," he replied as he stepped to the side so Santana could get a good look at the scene in front of them. "The son of a bitch has done it again."

"Jesus," Santana muttered under her breath as she tried to piece together the latest attack. She took a minute to get a bearing on her surroundings as her partner debriefed her on what she missed due to her late arrival.

The victim was a man in his late 40's and an employee at the convenience store. The crime fit the description of many past City Sniper cases, so of course, Puck and Santana were called first since they were the lead detectives.

"Single gunshot fits the usual cause of death, there were no witnesses, and the signature note was found in the victim's pocket. It's number 15, Santana," Puck explained as he passed his partner a piece of bagged evidence.

Santana glanced down and sighed, confirming that the note was, in fact, in the Sniper's handwriting. The two then documented the scene by taking pictures, gathering other physical evidence, and interviewing those who worked at the store.

"It's escalating," Santana said to Puck after they finished talking to the storeowner.

"What makes you say that?"

"Think about it. There's usually at least a month, sometimes two, between shootings. The last one happened only a week ago. He's breaking pattern."

Puck rubbed his hand over his forehead in frustration and realized that Santana was right. The Sniper was followed a strict ritual for his attacks. His victims were mostly random, although some he had held grudges against for many years before he snapped. Each victim was about more than just the kill. First, they were stalked for some time before the Sniper would make his move.

Before shooting his victims, the Sniper somehow managed to slip a note onto his target during his time stalking. The notes became known as his signature as they were found on all 15 victims. Each message was written in the same format consisting of the number of the victim and a unique marking, which resembled a bullseye target, that quickly became known as his symbol. In the past, the notes had been found in purses, pockets, car dashboards and even office cabinets.

Puck's mind churned as he processed Santana's observation.

"Maybe he has an accomplice?"

"I guess we can't rule that out," Santana said with a shrug.

"What the fuck is he up to now?" Puck cursed as his fists clenched subconsciously. "Let's get back to the office and break this down."

...

The next morning, Santana arrived a bit late to Starbucks. When she got there, she found Brittany sitting at a table drinking her tea. It wasn't until after she had taken a few steps toward her that she realized there was an extra coffee on the table. Santana bit her lip to hold back her smile as she approached the blonde who was sitting toward the back of the shop.

"This seat taken?"

"Saved for you, as a matter of fact," Brittany said with a grin as Santana sat down. "I got you a coffee, too."

"Thanks, Brittany. You really didn't have to do that."

"I know, but I wanted to," Brittany said with a warm smile.

"Well, thanks."

"Of course. Is everything okay with work? I was a little worried after yesterday."

"Yeah, it's fine," Santana said after sipping her drink. She smiled to herself when she realized that Brittany had fixed her coffee just the way she liked with cream and sugar. "Just looks like it'll be busy this week."

"Oh, gotcha. What do you do at the station?"

"Umm, it's more or less a desk job. Lots of paperwork," Santana said casually, trying to be as brief as possible. Lying was not her strong suit, but she didn't want to have to get into the details of that part of her life just yet.

"Paperwork, huh? Well, that's good."

Santana's lips formed a weak smile and searched for a question to gracefully change the subject. "Yeah. So how were your classes yesterday?"

The girls talked back a forth for while, conversing easily. Santana caught herself laughing more than she had in a long time. Normal things that Brittany did seemed to be especially cute for some reason. Like the way she'd arrange the packets of sugar on the table by color. Or the way she'd run her fingers through her perfectly straight blonde hair.

It wasn't until Brittany glanced down at her watch to see that it was 9:20 that their discussion was cut short.

The blonde's eyes widened and she quickly gathered her things. "Oh crap, I gotta run, Santana. My first class starts in ten. I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure, see you tomorrow, Britt."

...

"Why are you in such a good mood?" Mike questioned Brittany as she hummed away to the latest melody that was stuck in her head.

Brittany cocked her head and shot her best friend a look. "I'm not in a good mood."

"You are, too. You only hum when you're happy. And you're never happy when we work on balancing the budget," he replied as he nodded to the pile of papers stacked between them on the table.

"You're delusional," the blonde denied with a smirk.

...

Ever since Brittany had bought Santana coffee for the first time, the two had been meeting every morning at that same table for the last two weeks. They each started arriving a little bit earlier so they would have more time together before Brittany's first class started or Santana got called away to the station.

After only a week of morning tea and coffee dates, Brittany was pretty sure she had Santana figured out. Despite Santana's best efforts to hide it, Brittany could tell the girl was a master at deflecting personal questions. Brittany had a way of getting partial answers out of her, but she was also good at respecting boundaries and not pushing her luck.

Although she desperately wanted to meet Santana some place other than Starbucks, she kept her requests to a minimum. There had to be a reason for Santana's rejection, so for now, Brittany settled for her daily coffee with her crush.

…

One morning, Brittany couldn't contain her curiosity anymore. "Why do you keep turning me down?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, San. We've been having coffee together for weeks now but you won't let me take you anywhere else."

"I know," Santana sighed, realizing this conversation was about to happen.

"So why?"

The brunette slowly shifted her eyes from her coffee to look up at the beautiful woman in front of her. "I'm not good for you," Santana said after a while.

"You think so?"

"I know so," she replied with a strong voice, struggling to maintain eye contact.

Brittany watched Santana and waited a few seconds before asking her next question. "And why's that?"

"I just am," she said, the confliction in her voice evident.

"Well, I disagree."

Santana finally peeled her eyes off her fingers, which were tangled together on the table. She looked at Brittany with soft eyes and wished for things to be different. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the right words to say.

So instead, Brittany smiled endearingly and asked a simple question.

"Then why do you keep meeting me here?"

"I just…I can't seem to stay away."

After that answer, Brittany decided that was enough questions for the day. She sipped her tea with great satisfaction at her new progress. Tomorrow was going to be the day she'd Santana to go out with her on a real date.

…

The dancer's nerves were to blame for her arriving thirty minutes earlier than usual the next morning. She grabbed a copy of the Chicago Tribune and started catching up on the city's latest news. The headline, "Sniper hits Sixteen," caught her attention and she started reading.

Each time someone entered the shop, the chimes on the front door sent Brittany's head popping up from the paper. Halfway through the article, the chimes rang and Brittany smiled to see Santana make an entrance.

"Casual Friday, huh?" Brittany asked, shamelessly admiring Santana who was wearing jeans and a leather jacket.

"Kind of," Santana replied with a bashful smile as she sat down. She wasn't one to normally get self-conscious, but Brittany seemed to have that effect on her. "I'm working from home today."

"Yeah? But you came here anyway?"

"Mhmm. It felt weird not to start my day off like this," Santana said honestly, which sent both of them smiling contagiously.

The two started talking more about their plans for the weekend, and Brittany felt a rush of confidence realizing that this was her opportunity to ask.

"Hey, would you like to get dinner tomorrow night?"

"Dinner?"

"Mhmm. I thought I'd up the ante. I know this awesome Italian place. And lunch and walks were lame, anyway," she joked, causing Santana to break out into laughter. The brunette sighed and tapped her fingers on the table, trying to think of another excuse.

"You know, I'm not going to stop asking," Brittany insisted.

Santana smirked and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm slowly getting that."

"So, what do you say?"

Santana racked her brain for an adequate response. Maybe she didn't have to say no. Maybe there was another, safer option. Potential plans came to mind and she carefully eliminated the ideas that obviously wouldn't work until she settled on one that seemed like she could pull off.

Brittany was very patient, and after a few moments, Santana responded. "Can I offer up an alternative?"

"By all means."

"Why don't you come over to my place? I'll make you dinner."

"Really?" Brittany's face lit up.

"Really, really," Santana echoed, smiling at the blonde's reaction.

"That sounds great, San."

"Awesome," Santana reached into her purse to find something to write her address on. At first she grabbed one of her business cards, but decided to use the napkin on the table instead. "Here's my address and my cell number. You can come over around 7."

"Sounds good," Brittany replied with an almost blinding smile.

After Santana put her pen away, she glanced at her phone to see she had received a text from Puck.

_Where the hell are you? I think I might be on to something here. And don't forget my coffee, Lopez. _

"Oh shit, I gotta get going," Santana said, remembering that Puck, along with stacks of City Sniper work, were back at her place waiting for her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Britt."

"No problem, See you tomorrow, Santana," Brittany said, still smiling.

…

Santana probably should have taken a cab home. But instead, she decided to walk. She sent Puck a text saying there was a long line holding up Starbucks to buy her some time, but really, she just needed some time to sort through some things.

She knew that she'd have to come clean at dinner tomorrow. She'd have to tell Brittany what she'd be neglecting to mention. It's not like she was totally lying, Santana convinced herself. Her job was a desk job at times. And there sure as hell was a lot of paperwork.

The self-assuring continued as she rounded the last block to her apartment. You can't start seeing someone and keep her in the dark; she continued to remind herself. Brittany would have to make her decision. Santana just hoped for some sort of sign that she was doing the right thing.

…

When the hellish day of paperwork finally ended, Santana sent Puck home and crawled into her bed, hoping to get some sleep. Turns out, Puck wasn't really onto anything and they spent the entire day chasing a false lead. They were back to square one after endless hours of digging through reports and filed evidence.

Santana tossed and turned, trying to find sleep when she heard her phone vibrate on the nightstand. She rolled over to see a text from an unknown number.

_I knew I'd get you to agree eventually. I'll see you tomorrow._

Instantly, she knew it was Brittany. She bit her lip and smiled, reading the text a couple more times before typing back,

_You are adorable. See you tomorrow._


	3. Chapter 3

_First, I'd like to say a big and sincere thank you to all who have followed, favorited, or left a review for this story. It means a lot. Your kind words keep me motivated. Hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

Brittany arrived at Santana's building at seven o'clock on the dot. She walked through the revolving doors and she was immediately taken aback by how fancy the lobby was. The clicking of her heels echoed against the white marble floor and she looked up to admire the mosaic pattern that covered the 40-foot ceiling.

To her right stood a statue that matched the marble ground, and to her left were a few elevator doors. Along with the random pieces of artwork that aligned the walls, men dressed in suits were randomly dispersed through the lobby. By the way they were attentively standing, Brittany assumed they were security guards.

Cautiously, Brittany approached the front desk. Before she even had the chance to speak, the man sitting at the desk greeted her.

"Brittany for Santana, I presume?" he asked politely.

"That's me," she said with a weary smile.

"Just sign in here, please. This gentleman can take you up," he said, motioning to the security guard standing in front of the closest elevator. "It's the 7th floor."

"Thanks," the blonde said as she signed her name quickly and headed to the elevator. The guard pressed the button for her and Brittany gave him a half smile.

They rode the seven floors in a comfortable silence. Once the elevator arrived at their destination, Brittany thanked the gentleman and headed down the single hallway to the door of Santana's apartment.

Brittany took a deep breath. She adjusted her top and cardigan, and then knocked on the door. A couple of long seconds passed before Brittany heard footsteps scurry toward her.

The door swung open and there stood Santana, "Hi."

"Hi," Brittany said in return.

"Come on in." The brunette opened the door wider so Brittany could take a step in.

After seeing how stunning Brittany looked in her cute yellow top, Santana almost felt underdressed wearing skinny jeans and a black vneck. She watched as the dancer took off her shoes and walked into the living room to make her first impressions of the apartment.

Santana rarely had people over, and for obvious reasons. Mostly because it was just too complicated, but also because she had gotten sick of hearing snarky comments about her place. It was always something judgmental either about the security, the architecture, or how her apartment looked like it was straight out of a Home & Design magazine.

Much to Santana's surprise, Brittany didn't mention any of those things. She didn't say a word about the weird dude in the elevator or the perfect hardwood floors or the expensive never-been-used-before looking furniture. She didn't say anything except,

"It smells really good in here."

...

Santana told Brittany to make herself at home, so the blonde did just that. As they chatted about their days, Brittany sat on a bar stool at the kitchen island while Santana put the finishing touches on the meal.

"Red or white?" Santana asked, holding up two bottles of wine.

"Actually, I'll take a beer if you have one."

Santana grinned and happily put away the wine.

"My kind of girl," Santana said as she took two beers out of the fridge. "I've never really liked wine, but most people do so I figured you did. Which is why I thought it'd be nicer to offer it on a date like this."

"You think we're on a date?" the blonde smirked, causing Santana to trip over her words.

"Um, I...I mean, I don't know. I thought..."

Brittany watched for a while with enjoyment before intervening, "I'm just messing with you, Santana. This is totally a date."

The brunette tried to hide her relief and just shook her head, "You're a dork."

"I know," Brittany replied with cheeky smile.

...

Santana wasn't much of a cook, but she tried her best for Brittany's sake. Because of her hectic schedule, she was accustomed to microwavable dinners and takeout from the Chinese place down the street.

Tonight, however, she gave the whole cooking thing a shot and made chicken parmesan with a salad. The two dished themselves up and took their seats at the table.

"I guess I should give you a fair warning...I am not the best cook. If this sucks, we can totally order pizza."

"No, San, I'm sure this'll be great. I haven't had a home cooked meal in a while," Brittany replied. "I actually can't remember the last time someone cooked for me."

"Well, you may have wished for it to stay that way after trying this," Santana joked, sending the blonde into a fit of laughter that was just too cute.

...

Brittany was a good sport and finished her whole plate without complaint. After dinner, Santana grabbed each of them another beer before clearing the table and loading up the dishwasher.

"Sorry, Britt," Santana said with her hands in the sink. She peered over to the kitchen table where she found Brittany missing.

"This'll only take a minute," she continued as she scanned the room for the blonde.

Suddenly, Santana felt soft hands wrap around her waist. Before she could turn around, Brittany was nuzzling soft against her neck, kissing her way up and down exposed skin.

"I'll forgive you only if you let me..." Brittany turned Santana around by her hips and pressed herself closer. She smiled a devilish smile as she traced her finger over Santana's lips before leaning in to kiss her.

Brittany was a bit hesitant at first, placing her lips delicately over Santana's. It was only when she felt Santana open her mouth wider that Brittany became more aggressive. She blonde pushed her tongue against Santana's, massaging it gently. At the same time, the brunette placed her hand on the back of Brittany's neck.

In a strange way, it didn't feel like a first kiss. It felt familiar, like they'd done it a million times before. Like they already knew how their bodies moved and how their lips tasted. It was more exciting than a first kiss. It as exhilarating as finding what they'd each been missing.

Brittany quickly got carried away, "I'm...I'm sorry, San. I've just been wanting to do that for so long."

"Don't be sorry," Santana said, breathless. "Do it again."

Brittany smiled and placed her hand on Santana's cheek before doing just that. She gave her a few soft kisses, breaking away only to catch her breath. Santana gripped Brittany by her hips and directed them away from the sink so she was leaning against the island.

Santana wanted more. Her lips wanted more; she wanted to memorize the feeling of Brittany's against hers. The way the blonde was kissing her was delicate but passionate; careful but with purpose. It was intoxicating. And Santana wanted more.

Brittany broke away from the kiss for a second and tapped the counter with her hands, motioning for Santana to sit.

"Up," Brittany said softly before placing her lips back on Santana's. Swiftly, the brunette obliged by lifting herself up on the counter effortlessly. Brittany positioned herself between Santana's legs and the two continued to kiss.

Santana couldn't remember ever being touched this way. The blonde's hands were strong but soft against her back and neck. Brittany handled Santana with such care and precision that it made her feel appreciated like never before. It wasn't rushed, but it was quick with desire and Santana could not keep her hands off the tall blonde standing between her.

"Couch," Brittany managed to say between kisses. "Wrap your legs around me, monkey," the blonde added, and Santana swore it was the cutest thing she'd ever heard.

Santana crossed her legs behind Brittany's back and threw her arms around her neck. Brittany put her hands under Santana's ass and easily carried her over to the couch. For the first time, Santana took note at how muscular the dancer really was. Her arms flexed with ease as she walked gracefully over to the living room as if Santana's weight had no effect on her.

Santana tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear before whispering, "You're so beautiful."

Brittany hummed in response and placed Santana gently on the couch so she could straddle her.

"Not as beautiful as you," she said before starting where they left off on the counter. Brittany leaned down to kiss Santana as the brunette's hands guided her cardigan off her shoulders. Santana wanted to touch more skin. She wanted more Brittany.

The blonde assisted Santana and tossed her cardigan to the floor. Their lips met again as Brittany played with the hem of Santana's shirt. Feeling Brittany's warm and slow touch against her stomach awoke the brunette's conscience. Santana pulled away abruptly.

"We shouldn't start this," she said, forcing herself to stop.

"Start what?" Brittany replied innocently before stealing another kiss.

Santana couldn't help but smile and give into the adorable girl just for a second before separating their lips again.

"This," she emphasized in a more serious tone.

Brittany sighed and got off of Santana so they were now sitting close to each other on the couch. She knew what Santana was talking about: a fling, a relationship, whatever they were.

"But don't you like this?"

"Of course I like this. I like you."

"Then what's the problem, San?" Brittany asked delicately.

"That _is_ the problem."

She was following earlier, but now Brittany was a little lost. "What do you mean?"

Santana shook her head, "It's complicated."

"I know. You've said that before."

"Well, it's true."

"Why is it?" Brittany pressed on, desperate for answers.

Santana swallowed and looked down at her hands before continuing. "There are some things you still need to know about me."

Patiently, Brittany nodded. She understood this was probably difficult for Santana to talk about. "Okay, so tell me."

"You know that case that's all over the news lately?" Santana asked cautiously.

"The City Sniper case?"

The brunette nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah, I've been following it a little bit."

"Well," Santana paused to take a breath. "That's my case."

Brittany blinked hard before responding. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"I thought you said you had a desk job?" Brittany asked, looking for clarification.

"That might have been an understatement. It's a little more than that. I'm a detective. Lead on the Sniper case. It's been my life for the past two years."

"So you're the Detective Lopez I've been reading about?"

Santana nodded, "I'm sorry I lied...I just didn't know how to tell you without getting into all of this."

The dancer didn't respond just yet. Instead, she took Santana's hand with both of hers. "Okay...so what does all of this have to do with us?"

"Everything." Santana looked down at their hands. Brittany's thumb was now tracing circles over her knuckles.

"Why?"

"Because..." Santana tried to think of the best way to explain it. "Okay, this place? This is not my place."

Santana looked around her apartment and rolled her eyes at the expensive furniture and decor.

"My real apartment is on the south side. It's way smaller and completely unorganized. My unit put me in this apartment a few months ago because it has more security. This building is where they keep other people of interest. Some celebrities, too," she paused to see Brittany was listening attentively, so she continued.

"There's always guards covering the main entrance and there's even an officer who's responsible for my well-being. This place is basically a safe house. And since it wasn't safe at my apartment with all this shit going on, it just made sense."

"What do you mean, not safe?"

Santana paused and debated how much detail she wanted to unravel tonight. She had been honest so far, so she decided to go on. "I've had a few run ins with the Sniper. He knows who I am. He knows I'm in charge of his case. I'm a threat to him. And since he knew where my old apartment was, I didn't have a choice but to move."

Blue eyes looked at Santana with concern.

"Do you see what I'm saying, Britt? You can't get involved with me. It's not safe. If he finds out we're together, then you're in danger too. I can't have that."

Brittany didn't answer Santana's question, but instead, asked one of her own.

"So that's why you kept turning me down? Cause you were worried about me?"

Santana nodded, looking down at their hands.

"And that's why you made me come here tonight? Cause it's safe here?"

Santana nodded again, this time locking eyes with Brittany.

"Okay," the blonde said calmly. She took a minute to finish processing what Santana had just told her. "And what if I still want to be with you?"

"That's not how it's supposed to happen, Britt. This is supposed to make you want to stay away."

Brittany gripped Santana's hand tighter. "I know."

"So, I'm telling you. You should stay away," Santana said, trying to maintain a strong voice.

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then you're crazy."

Brittany smiled and moved closer to Santana.

"Can we talk about this more later?" she placed her hand on Santana's thigh. She leaned in and left a trail of kisses from her neck to her cheek, stopping at her ear. "Right now I just want to kiss you."


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm terribly sorry for the delay! Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows in my absence. I'm home for winter break now so I should to be able to write more (fingers crossed!). Hope you like the chapter! _

* * *

Brittany's lips were slowly but surely melting away Santana's anxiety. With Santana lying down and Brittany straddling her lap, the two continued to kiss on the couch, losing all sense of time.

After Santana's confession, the blonde slowed her tempo. Her mouth and hands matched the sincerity of Santana's words by moving in a controlled and passionate rhythm. Brittany didn't pressure or push to take off any clothing; instead she focused on making Santana feel relaxed and happy.

Almost too quickly, the dancer found that Santana had a weak spot for her neck. With each kiss on open skin, Santana would grip Brittany's hips tighter and tilt her head back to give the blonde more room to navigate her mouth and tongue.

"I could kiss you forever," Brittany muttered against a smirking Santana as she lifted her head to allow their lips to meet again. With each kiss deepening, she wanted to make sure Santana could feel her desire for them to be together.

Smiles and adoring whispers were all that separated their lips until Brittany positioned herself between Santana and the back of the couch. They both were more tired than they realized, and Brittany nestled easily into the crook of Santana's neck.

Tangled together with the girl she'd been crushing on for weeks, Santana wanted to kick herself for not making this happen sooner. At that thought, she pulled the blonde closer and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"You know, there are going to have to be some rules if we're going to make this work. Just some precautions to make sure you stay safe," Santana stated reluctantly, breaking the silence.

"I know."

"It's not going to be easy all the time."

"I know."

The two returned to a state of comfortable silence where they both seemed to be thinking about what they were about to get themselves into. Brittany wrapped her arm tighter around Santana's waist and began to lightly run her knuckles back and forth over the brunette's stomach.

"It's worth it, though. You know, you haven't exactly made it easy since day one," Brittany admitted, picking her head up so their eyes could meet. "But being here now after all those mornings, I know it's worth it. You're worth it to me, Santana."

Caught inches away, Santana couldn't hide her blushing cheeks. She bit her lip in an attempt to contain her smile, but it was useless.

"Okay," Santana finally replied, which sent Brittany grinning. The blonde expected some kind of argument or rebuttal, so she took Santana's simple response as a huge victory.

"Okay," Brittany echoed, smiling even wider now. She gave Santana a quick kiss on the lips before nestling back up in the crook of her neck.

Brittany sighed with content and could feel sleep creeping up behind her eyes. She knew it was late, but she didn't want to leave just yet. A while passed before she could work up the momentum to say anything.

"I'm tired."

"I can see that, sleepyhead," Santana smirked, tucking a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear.

"You're comfy," Brittany said as she forced herself to sit up. "Can we talk about rules tomorrow?"

"Sure."

The dancer put her cardigan back on, but it took a few minutes for her to collect herself enough to stand up. She yawned and stretched her lengthy limbs, feeling Santana's eyes glued to her. Just as she was about to head to the door to get her shoes, Santana spoke.

"Hey, um...if you want, we can talk about rules over coffee and tea in the morning."

"Wanna meet at our normal spot?"

"Actually, I was kind of thinking..." Santana got up from the couch and stepped toward Brittany. "I'd rather just have it here. I'm pretty sure I have some tea somewhere in the kitchen. It came stocked with stuff when I moved in."

"Santana, are you asking me to sleep over?" she asked with a proud smirk.

"I guess I am. We don't have to do anything, it's not like that...I, I'm just not ready for you to go."

Brittany pretended to contemplate her answer, almost enjoying how she was making Santana sweat it out.

"Okay," the blonde beamed.

"Okay?"

"Mhmm," Brittany confirmed with a contagious smile. "I'm gonna need to borrow something to change into, though."

"Sure, of course."

"Just to warn you," the blonde whispered as she played with the hem of Santana's vneck. "I'm kind of a shirt stealer."

"Oh, are you? Good thing I have like a million t-shirts."

"A million?"

"Basically. Come see," Santana said as she took Brittany's hand and began leading her to the bedroom.

...

After raiding Santana's closet, she settled on one of the many White Sox t-shirts and a pair of boxers. Almost naturally, Santana crawled into bed first and Brittany followed, pressing their bodies close and placing her arm around the brunette.

"No one has ever slept over here before," Santana said, fighting off sleep.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I guess Puck has a couple times when we were up late going over case files. But he slept on the couch."

"Who's Puck, again? You work with him, right?"

"Right, sorry. Noah Puckerman. He's my partner on the Sniper case. He's a pain in the ass slash my best friend."

"I see. So I'm the first one to sleep in this bed with you?"

Santana hummed in confirmation.

"I like that," Brittany admitted with a sleepy smile.

"Me too."

...

As usual, Brittany's internal alarm clock woke her up at 8. Even on Sundays it was hard for her to sleep in. Even so, that couldn't damper her mood when she recognized that somehow through the night, she ended up on her back with Santana cuddled close.

The blonde wiped the sleep from her eyes and took a minute to admire how gorgeous Santana looked in her sleep. The girl that was always worrying about something, whether it was Brittany's safety or the next Sniper victim, was finally at peace. In that moment, Brittany couldn't think of anything or anyone as beautiful as the girl sleeping soundly next to her.

With their legs tangled together, Brittany tried to maneuver herself out of bed without waking Santana. She made her way to the kitchen and decided to make breakfast. After rummaging through the kitchen, she found some pancake mix and by some miracle, there were fresh eggs and milk in the fridge.

After cutting up some fruit she found too, this breakfast actually turned out to be a decent meal. Just as Brittany was plating up, Santana stumbled into the kitchen.

"Hey, you," the blonde greeted with a smile.

"Hi," Santana whispered, still half asleep. She walked up behind Brittany and stole a kiss on the cheek. Swiftly, the dancer put down the spatula and plate she had in her hands and turned around to give Santana a real kiss.

"You shoulda woke me up," the brunette pouted before Brittany kissed her again.

"No way. You were way too adorable to disturb."

...

"I think we should let you do the cooking from now on," Santana said while clearing her plate.

"I think that can be arranged," the blonde replied with a grin. Santana took the girl's plate and did a quick sweep of the kitchen while Brittany sat on the couch and watched the morning news.

"Thanks, Britt. That was great. You're great," Santana said, sitting down next to her.

"Of course,"Brittany replied. Just then, the newscaster began talking about the latest on the City Sniper. Santana shifted in her seat, and Brittany reached for the remote to turn off the TV.

"Let's talk about these rules, shall we?" the blonde said in a calm voice.

"Look, Brittany...I don't want these things we decide on to be thought of as rules. I don't want you to have to live like that...by a set of rules that dictate what you can and can't do. Maybe we think of them more as guidelines. I don't know. It's all to keep you safe."

"I know what they are, San."

"Okay," the brunette said, looking down at her hands that were intertwined together with nerves. Brittany could feel Santana starting to build a wall, so she broke up the brunette's hands and grabbed one with her own.

"Well, I think you should start," Brittany encouraged.

Santana nodded and laid out what she had in mind. The first being that they could never go to Brittany's place or her work studio. The Sniper had stalked Santana in the past, and the last thing she wanted was to lead him to the foot of Brittany's door. The next was that they couldn't be seen in public together. That didn't mean no public dates, those would be okay if they were carefully arranged by Santana and her security guard, Sam.

"You've really thought about this, haven't you?"

"Every time I turned you down I thought of something else."

Brittany flashed half a smile and couldn't help but lean in to kiss her.

"It's okay, Santana. Keep going."

"Basically, if we do this, we'll be spending a lot of time here because it's the safest option. We just can't be seen leaving or arriving together."

"Okay, that makes sense."

"You should carry pepper spray, too. Just in case. And we can plan some weekend getaways. Sam could help with that," Santana noted, remembering how he would always nag her to try and meet someone. Since he's around all the time, he's probably the person that knows her the best. He wouldn't mind setting up stuff for the two of them if it meant that Santana was happy.

"Okay," Brittany smiled and gave Santana's hand a squeeze. "What about Starbucks?"

"We probably should give that tradition up," Santana said, her eyes falling back down to their hands.

"Hey, that's okay. We can start new ones. Like pancake Sunday."

Despite the serious conversation, she couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable the blonde was. Santana took a breath before asking the question she'd been nervous about since she woke up.

"Do you still wanna do this?"

"I still wanna do this. Do you?"

"Mhmm," Santana nodded with relief.

"Good," Brittany beamed and found her way into the brunette's lap. "There's no turning back now," she joked before pulling Santana in for a hard kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter's more than twice as long as the last one as a way to make up for the delay in posting. Thanks for reading and thanks to those who have stuck with it so far! Reviews are much appreciated :) Enjoy!_

...

**Monday**

"Thanks for calling me back, Romeo," Puck said as Santana strolled into the station bright and early.

"No problem," she replied sarcastically with a grin. "If it was an emergency, you would've texted 911."

"Yeah, yeah. So what, are you and the dancer a thing now?"

"Her name's Brittany, moron," Santana snapped. "And yeah, we're a thing now."

"Ohhh, feisty Lopez. I like it. I gotta meet this girl."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Let's get our shit together. Lieutenant Schuester is waiting for an update from us."

The two headed to the conference room that was designated for the Sniper case. The place looked like a bomb of paperwork, push pins, and empty Starbucks cups had exploded, leaving an organized disaster that only Puck and Santana could decipher.

As soon as the two detectives walked in, Schuester fired away his routine questions.

"Where are we at?" he barked, as Puck and Santana approached the bulletin boards filled with pictures, evidence, timelines, and leads.

"Okay. Let's start with the latest. Victim 14 and 15 were shot within a week. Then there was a two week break before 16 happened this past Thursday night," Santana recounted.

"Right. It seems to be escalating since there usually is a month or two between shootings. Now we're thinking there's a possibility of an accomplice," Puck added before Santana continued.

"We're still processing the scene from Thursday. From blood tests, we found that victim number 16, a local businesswoman, was related to victim 15, the 40-year-old employee at the convenient store. This is the first time we've found a bloodline relation between victims. We're running all blood samples now to see if there are any other familial ties."

"Currently, we're investigating ties between 15 and 16, and how or if they could be related to the Sniper, either by blood or by history," Puck said, concluding their update.

"Good. Good," Schuester said, nodding. He stood up and headed for the door. Before leaving, he tells them, "I want a full report on my desk by Wednesday with everything you can come up with on 15, 16, and the Sniper."

...

**Wednesday**

After a third straight day of crossing victims 15 and 16 with nothing turning up, Santana patiently awaited Brittany's arrival. It was late, but earlier they had planned to watch a movie together. Just on time, Santana heard a knock on the door.

"Hey, you," she greeted the blonde, who was holding two paper bags in each hand. "Whatcha got there?"

"Groceries! If I'm gonna be spending more time here, you have to at least have the basics. Plus, I got dinner too."

"You are amazing," Santana shook her head in awe as she followed Brittany to the kitchen.

...

After dinner, the two got comfortable on the couch. Brittany sat up with her legs stretched on the coffee table and Santana laid down on her back with her head in the blonde's lap.

"Does Puck live in this building too?" Brittany asked as she ran her fingers through brunette locks.

"No, he got relocated in a similar building a few blocks down. Our unit thought it'd be safer if we were apart," she explained, blinking long and breathing deep. Brittany playing with her hair was her new favorite thing.

"Can I meet him sometime?"

"Of course. You may regret asking that, though. Fair warning," Santana joked and Brittany giggled.

"Are you guys making any progress on the case?"

"I'm not technically allowed to discuss details. But honestly, we're kind of at a standstill."

Brittany nodded as she continued to idly play with the girl's perfect hair. She could hear Santana's voice deflate at the mention of the case's progress, so she changed the subject.

"Tell me more about Sam."

"You are full of questions tonight," Santana grinned.

"I can't help it. My girlfriend's fascinating," she emphasized, causing Santana to break out in her enticing laughter. "And actually, that wasn't a question. It was an order."

"Ohh, okay," Santana rolled her eyes and couldn't resist giving Brittany a kiss. One led to many more, as it usually did, and Brittany had to push Santana back down to her lap to get her to refocus on her request.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Well, you guys have to be pretty close by now, I'd imagine. He's with you or knows what you're doing 24/7."

"Yeah, I guess so," Santana shrugged. She'd never really thought about it that way before. "Well, I've known and worked with Sam since before the Sniper case, so a little over two years now. But he wasn't assigned to me and my protection until I moved into this damn place. He's seen me at my worst and he's stuck around when not many other dudes would. Plus, he listens but knows when to shut up."

The blonde chuckled, "Well, that's good. Does he know about me?"

"Yes."

Brittany's mouth curled up to half a smile at her immediate answer. "What does he know?"

"He knows you're the girl that I met at Starbucks every morning. He was parked out front, you know. Almost every morning. He keeps his distance but he always has my back."

"I guess I should be thanking him then."

"Nah, you don't have to. It's his job. Not to mention, the little shit loves it. He encouraged me to have you over long before I asked, actually."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," Santana confirmed and Brittany could not stop wondering what else she'd mentioned to him.

"Did you tell him I was your girlfriend?"

"Mhmm," she hummed again, and Brittany's half smile turned full.

"I'll have to introduce you guys soon. I think you'll like him."

"I'm sure I will. Now get your butt up and go put in the movie, you."

...

**Thursday**

Work started off worse than usual for the detective duo at the station. Santana slept through her alarm and then spilled coffee on her blazer, causing her to arrive at the station even later. When she finally did, Puck was waiting in her office.

"Fuck, Lopez! Where the hell were you?"

"Jesus, Puck, calm down. I'm here now," she threw her briefcase on the ground and sat down at her desk. She looked up to see Puck pacing back and forth. "What's wrong?"

"You're sure as shit not going to believe this. Just talked to lieutenant Schuester. He's pissed about the report on victims 15 and 16."

"That's bullshit. It's not our fault there was no tie between them and the Sniper," Santana said defensively.

"He thinks we missed something. He says if we don't get another lead soon, they're going to have to bring in the fucking FBI."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Just what we need. Those scumbags will just waltz in here and ruin any chance of progress we'll ever make with that fucked up system of theirs," Santana slammed her fist on her desk.

"I know that's what I told him."

"And?"

"And, as usual, Schuester is oblivious."

"Fuck," Santana hissed under her breath. "Alright. Looks like we got work to do."

"We've been over 16's scene a million fucking times. You know as well as I do that we didn't miss anything."

"I know, I know. Okay, what about 16's note? Where did we find the Sniper's signature note?"

"It was...," Puck sorted through the case's evidence in his mind. "It was in her car. In the console."

"Okay. Let's go run it again."

...

The victim's car was still in the department's possession as it was technically still evidence, and also because no family members had come to claim it yet. As soon as they arrived, Santana and Puck began searching from the trunk to the dashboard. Stuck under the passenger seat, Santana found a disposable cell phone.

"How did we miss that?" Puck asked as Santana tossed him the phone.

"I don't know. It could be hers, though. Don't get your hopes up. The Sniper doesn't make rookie mistakes like dropping his cell."

"We'll see, Lopez. Don't be such a pessimist."

Unfortunately, in her line of work, it was hard to be anything but that. The only thing that seemed to keep Santana in a relatively good mood were the texts she kept receiving from Brittany throughout the day.

Once they sent the phone to the lab and IT guys, Santana sent off another text.

_Come over after work?_

A few minutes later, Brittany responded.

_We're testing out this new night class tonight. I'll be there after. 8 okay?_

_Sounds good. Good luck. Can't wait to see you. _

_Me too :)_

_..._

Upon arriving at the Santana's building, Brittany was greeted by the usual men in suits that occupied the lobby. The man at the front desk was acquainted with her by now, so Brittany felt a bit more comfortable as she waved and headed toward the elevator.

"Uh, excuse me, Brittany Pierce?" a man called, stopping her before she could hit the up button.

Brittany turned around and acknowledged the man, noting that she hadn't seen him in the lobby before.

"Sorry if I startled you. I'm Sam Evans," he approached her with a warm smile and extended his hand.

"Ohh, Sam! Santana's..._friend_," Brittany returned the smile and shook his hand. He was different than she imagined. With blond hair and boyish features, Brittany didn't think that she'd be able to tell he was in the profession of security if she saw him walking down the street...but then again, maybe that was the point.

"Right," Sam chuckled. "It's great to finally meet you. Santana won't shut up about you, you know."

Brittany wasn't normally the type to get embarrassed, but there was no stopping her cheeks from burning red. What was this girl doing to her?

"I hope that's a good thing," she said, trying to stay as cool as possible.

"For Santana, it's practically a miracle," Sam flashed a genuine smile. His care for her was evident, which made Brittany like him instantly.

"Anyway, I won't hold you up. I know Santana's up there waiting. But she wanted me to give you a key to her place. Under these special circumstances, we both agreed that it's better for you to have access whenever you want. It's the safest spot in the city for you two."

Brittany nodded and took the key. "Thanks, Sam. Really."

"Of course. I'm sure I'll be seeing you, Brittany."

...

The elevator stopped at the 7th floor and Brittany headed to the door of Santana's apartment with her new key in hand. She let herself in and smiled, hoping this would be the first of many times she'd do this.

"Santana?" she called, taking off her shoes and making herself at home.

At the sound of the door opening, Santana shuffled the evidence documents she'd been rereading. She stuck them back in a folder titled #16 before sliding it in her briefcase.

"Hey, baby," Santana's replied, popping her head up over the couch.

"Hey, yourself," the blonde said as she nearly skipped over to join her. She plopped down next to her girlfriend and stared at her with those piercing blue eyes, smiling like a kid.

"What?" Santana asked, nervously.

"It's nothing...you, you just called me baby."

"I did. Is that okay?"

Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana quick. She lingered over her lips before saying, "Totally."

"Okay then, _baby_," Santana said, as she slid her arm around the dancer's waist.

"You're such a dork," she rolled her eyes in the most adoring way possible and Santana grinned. Brittany kissed her again, this time pulling the brunette on top of her for more. Being a dork was more than okay with Santana, as long as she got to do this everyday.

_..._

**Friday**

Santana rolled over to an empty, but still warm, bed. Memories from the night before swept over her and her only thought was Brittany. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes just yet, as mornings were her least favorite thing. Instead, she sighed and hoped Brittany would return to bed soon.

Clouded by a haze of sleep, Santana heard the shower turn on. Soon, the strong scent of Brittany filled the room. Santana smiled, thinking she must've bought her own shampoo for the place when she went grocery shopping.

When the blonde finished, she came out of the bathroom just wearing a towel. Thinking Santana was still sleeping, she tried to be as quiet as possible while getting ready.

"Hi," Santana mustered up from bed.

"You're awake!" Brittany nearly shouted. She stopped what she was doing and jumped back into bed.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," still just wearing a towel, the blonde kissed Santana on her forehead. Then on her cheeks and neck and lips.

"You really are a morning person, aren't you?" Santana laughed as Brittany continued to attack her with kisses.

"Totally."

"What time is it?"

"8:02."

"Ughhh. Too. Early. To. Function," Santana groaned.

"It is not," the blonde chuckled and nudged her. "What time do you need to go into work today?"

"I dunno. Around 9."

"Come on, you. I'll make breakfast."

"10 more minutes," Santana persisted. Brittany smirked and rolled her eyes. She kissed her on the lips before agreeing.

Instead of snoozing, Santana spent those ten minutes fixed on Brittany. She watched as the dancer walked across the room to her closet (which was quickly becoming theirs). Santana took in every detail, like the way she practically glided as she moved and the way the small towel wrapped around her made her seem even taller.

Santana couldn't help but admire her lean figure as she changed. Her back muscles flexed effortlessly into a shirt and her long legs slipped into jeans. She was so fit, so strong, so gorgeous. She headed to the bathroom to towel-dry her hair and put on some makeup. Just as Santana closed her eyes, Brittany was back in bed.

"Time to get up," she whispered. Santana nodded, knowing that Brittany was probably the only person who could wake her up without a fight.

_... _

**Wednesday**

Santana arrived at the conference room to find Sam and Puck discussing their latest Sniper theories. This is how they had spent most of their days since finding that cell phone. Turns out, it was the Sniper's. Since last Thursday, they'd been following any leads the phone produced.

Over the weekend they ran it for fingerprints. They found a partial, but it wasn't enough to come up with anything solid. The day before they had traced the phone to the store it was purchased from and the date it was purchased. The Sniper had bought it a couple of weeks ago at a local Walgreens. Puck ran over the store's security tapes, but found he was wearing a black baseball cap that covered his face.

Today, they were continuing to follow up on the phone's call history. There were several incoming and outgoing calls, and each source had to be identified and looked into. According to Puck, any number that appeared multiple times had an increased likelihood of being the accomplice.

"Santana, what do you think? Accomplice? Yes or no?" Sam questioned upon her arrival.

"Fuck if I know. It would explain the careless mistake of leaving the cell phone in the car. Here," she said before sliding them each a fresh cup of coffee.

"And what did we do to deserve this?" Puck said, raising an eyebrow.

"I think San is just in a good mood. She has been for a while now, don't you think, Puck?"

"Ya know, brother, I do think so. Maybe it has something to do with that girl she's been seeing," he said, talking only to Sam.

"I think you may be right there. Damn, we could've used her a couple months ago."

"Guys, I'm right here. I can hear what you're saying," Santana said, interrupting their conversation.

"Lopez, I still need to meet this miracle worker," Puck said with a grin.

"Dude, I have. And she's a fox. Total babe," Sam chimed in.

"Really? How'd you trick her into dating you again?" Puck asked.

"Fuck off, morons," Santana shook her head and tried as hard as possible not to smile.

_..._

**Saturday**

It had been a long week of chasing leads and potential "accomplices." Before Santana knew it, it was Saturday and she hadn't seen Brittany all week. They made plans a couple of times, but each time they had to cancel because Santana got called in by the lieutenant. Santana kept apologizing, but Brittany always understood. She knew this was going to be part of the package. So they texted all the time, and Brittany did whatever she could to assure Santana that it was okay, and that she liked her all the same. In fact, not seeing her for a week made Brittany like her even more.

Santana had to work late again on Saturday, but Brittany had something special planned. For the whole later part of the day, Santana kept rereading her last text,

_I'll be waiting for you at home :)_

When Santana finally arrived, she walked into the apartment to see that Brittany had dinner made, candles lit, and drinks ready.

"Mmm, smells delicious. I'm starving," Santana said as she walked into the kitchen. She tossed her briefcase to the side and headed to greet Brittany.

"Hi," she said, wrapping her arms around the blonde and holding her tight.

"Long time no see," Brittany replied, hugging her back and nestling into her neck.

"Too long," Santana added.

The two separated and Brittany took her hand to lead her to the table just as a loud ringing interrupted them.

"Ugh, hold on a second," Santana sighed, checking her cell phone, "It's Puck. I gotta take it."

Brittany nodded and Santana picked up. On the other end, a voice began talking a million miles an hour.

"Are you fucking kidding me? When? I just left!" Santana raised her voice, visibly furious. Brittany couldn't look away. She was totally mesmerized watching her girlfriend switch to work mode.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Santana whispered under her breath as she listened. "No, no. Tell him we need another week at least."

She paused and continued to listen. She knew Brittany's eyes were glued to her, so she turned to head into another room.

"I don't care what he told you, Puck. Get your ass back in there. Schuester'll give us more time if you demand it. Ask for two weeks. Then he'll give us one."

Unbeknownst to Santana, Brittany had snuck behind to follow so she could keep listening.

"Exactly. We found that fucking cell phone, we're chasing multiple leads now. What more does he want?! The Sniper hasn't made a move since 16. You remind that son of a bitch that if they bring the FBI in...," Santana stopped talking and nodded. Brittany assumed Puck had finished her sentence.

"Yeah...okay. Good, good. Do you want me to come in?" Santana's voice changed softer at the question. "Are you sure?"

As Brittany listened, she realized she was getting a small taste of the pair's dynamic. It seemed as though Santana was in charge, but she was also more emotional. Puck was the anchor of logic and reason, and together they made a stellar combination.

"You can do this, Puck. Text me after...yeah, she's here...alright, later."

Santana hung up and took a deep breath. She rubbed her temple and turned around, catching Brittany close behind her.

"What was that? Is everything okay?" she asked, clearly concerned.

"Everything's fine, babe. Just trying to save the world before our incompetent boss destroys it," Santana replied, thinking for sure that would get a laugh out of Brittany to lighten the mood. Instead, the girl came closer and placed her arms around Santana's neck.

"You were so sexy."

Santana cocked her head in confusion. "What?"

"On the phone, all serious and cursing. You don't really swear in front of me."

"Sure I do."

"Not like that," Brittany persisted, twirled a piece of brown hair between her fingers.

"That's because I don't particularly like to swear in front of you."

"Why? You should be yourself around me, silly."

"I know, and I am. It's just...you're not like everyone else. You're special. And I like that."

"Okay, fine," Brittany huffed. She tried to be mad, but really she was floating on cloud nine. "Just know that it may or may not turn me on."

Santana smirked. "Oh, really?"

"Really," Brittany pulled Santana by her shirt and started leading her to the bedroom. "Let's get you out of those uncomfortable clothes."

And just like that, Santana was hungry for something else. In between frantic kisses, she took off her blazer and Brittany began unbuttoning the blouse underneath.

"I thought work would never end today. I've been waiting to get my hands on you all _fucking_ day," Santana whispered, causing Brittany to shiver.

"Is that so, Detective Lopez?" she flashed a devilish smile as the back of her knees hit the bed. She fell backwards and her seductive eyes lured Santana in. The brunette shimmied off her pants before straddling Brittany, wearing just a black bra and matching boy shorts.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but touch. Brittany's hands moved fast over Santana's skin. Her palm moved up her stomach and down her back. Her fingers treaded lightly, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

"Do you know how perfect you are?" the blonde asked as she pulled Santana down by the back of the neck to meet her lips. She kissed her hard before saying, "You're so perfect."

Santana responded by kissing her again. "Your turn," she said, motioning for Brittany to put her hands up so she could take off her shirt. Seconds later, she'd snaked her way out of her jeans too.

With Brittany still underneath the brunette, Santana wrapped one arm around her and pulled her up the bed where they continued to kiss and explore. Santana's breath hitched as Brittany's hand traced a scar on her left shoulder.

"Wait, Santana...what happened?" Brittany asked, startled at the mark under her fingers that resembled a bullet wound.

"It's nothing. Come on, kiss me," she said, finding Brittany's lips once again.

"It's not nothing, baby," the blonde managed to say between breaths. "Tell me."

"It's just a scar," Santana tried to mask her annoyance and continued to kiss her. Taken aback, Brittany let her for a second before pushing her away.

"Santana. What happened? Did you get shot?"

She rolled over and sighed deeply before laying her head back on a pillow. "Yeah. It happened a few months ago, right before I moved here."

There were a few moments of silence as Brittany processed the news. Her jaw went slack and her eyes filled with worry.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you, kind of like you are right now," Santana continued.

"You should have told me," Brittany said, her voice straining.

"I know, I'm sorry," she shut her eyes tight and tried to keep her emotions in check. She turned to see Brittany studying her every move. "Are you mad?"

She shook her head no and gave a weak smile, "I'm not mad, San. I just wanna know what happened."

Santana cleared her throat, thinking back to where she should begin. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she slipped under the covers. Brittany joined her and cuddled closer. The warmth of the blonde against her melted away her nerves and she began to tell the story.

First, some background information had to be shared. Santana spilled about how the Sniper had been stalking her and Puck as they tried to piece together the crime scenes he left behind. He would drop clues and foreshadowing messages, all hinting at his next victims. Santana explained how he got some thrill out of outsmarting the law. That was part of his game; he strived off of outsmarting Santana and Puck. Even still with his notes, they were no closer to catching him.

After some back-story, Santana began explaining her scar. It started after she found a lead through one of the Sniper's messages he left for her on the windshield of her car. He wrote on the back of a motel's stationary, which led them straight to him.

Along with the lieutenant, they came up with a plan to ambush the Sniper at his motel room. When Santana, Puck, and the team of cops arrived at this door, he wasn't there. The cops tore the place apart and came up with nothing. Just as they were leaving, the Sniper arrived, seemingly coming back from a run to the store. He dropped the bags he was carrying and open fired, which is how Santana was hit alongside two other officers. Fortunately, she was only nicked; the bullet grazed her left shoulder but still left a nasty scar.

After he open fired, the Sniper took off running. Unfortunately, after a lengthy pursuit, he slipped through their fingers. A rookie cop let him get away after the damage was done. That was the closest they'd ever been to catching him. Santana and Puck had finally gotten a glimpse of the Sniper's face, but he was wearing that same black baseball cap so it wasn't enough to recount his description to a sketch artist.

Since the incident, Puck and Santana had to up security. That's the real reason why she was moved to this apartment, and that's why she now has Sam.

"I'm sorry," Santana said after telling Brittany everything.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because," she paused and turned to meet blue eyes. "I don't want you to worry. I don't want you to have to deal with any of this."

"I only worry about you because I care about you, Santana," Brittany said, placing her hand on her cheek. "And that's a good thing. I know you may not see it like that, but it is. I care about you and I'm not going anywhere."

Tears welled up in Santana's eyes and Brittany kissed her lips. She kissed her scar and her tears as they fell, wanting so desperately to take them away.

"I'm not going anywhere," Brittany repeated softly as she continued to comfort her anyway she could. She repeated it over and over again until Santana fell asleep in her arms.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks so much for reading, guys! I have to admit, I totally love reading your reviews and your different theories on what's happening. I think some of you are more creative than I am :) Anyway, hope you like this chapter!_

...

Over a month had gone by and Brittany was spending more time at Santana's than ever. Whenever she wasn't at work or with Mike and friends, she was at Santana's - even if her girlfriend wasn't there. She couldn't quite explain it, but Santana's apartment was starting to feel more like home than her own place was.

Some days, Santana would work from home just so she could spend more time with Brittany. She had to admit that she got distracted easily, but she found that there were a lot of incentives in working five feet away from her drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend. For instance, all Brittany had to say was, "Hurry up and finish that report so we can go take a bath," and Santana would be done in less than ten minutes.

...

Unfortunately, work for Santana was more frustrating than ever. The Sniper case was starting to run cold. Although a few contacts were still being investigated, most of the leads she and Puck had tracked from the cell phone came up as dead ends. It was quickly becoming undeniable that they were running out of cards to play. Since the Sniper hadn't made a move since victim 16, it seemed to be a waiting game.

Lieutenant Schuester grew more and more impatient as the quiet month went by. On Monday morning, when Santana arrived in the station, the lieutenant was waiting for her in her office.

"Lopez," he greeted as she sat down at her desk.

"Lieutenant. Is everything okay?" she asked calmly, trying to detect the meaning for his visit.

"What do you think?" he snapped. "No, everything's not okay. I've let this go on for too long. I've decided to get the FBI involved on the case."

"Sir, I ask you to reconsider. Please. Remember the Rodriguez case? When we brought the FBI in, it took an extra 4 months to solve the case. We could've caught the guy twice, easily. Their system is fucked up. And you know it."

"Lopez, I'm running out of options here. We've got the city and the mayor breathing down my neck. My ass is on the line, and frankly, yours is too. I need to make a move. We can't sit here and wait for the son of a bitch to kill another innocent civilian."

"Fine, I get that," Santana said, taking a moment to collect herself. "Can we strike a compromise?"

He stared at her intently before asking, "What kind of compromise?"

"Instead of turning over the entire case to the FBI, assign one agent to the case. That way, it can still be in our control and we can avoid all the politics and the red tape bullshit. We've done it that way before and I can live with that."

The lieutenant strummed his fingers against his knees, contemplating her request.

"Please, Schuester. I can't lose this case."

"I'll consider it," he said when his jaw clenched tight.

Santana nodded, thankfully. I'll consider it was always a yes in Schuester's book.

"Thank you."

"I'll let you know my decision at the end of the day," he said as he briskly walked out of her office.

...

It wasn't until after six o'clock when Santana finally heard back from the boss. When the anticipated email arrived in her inbox, Santana read it aloud to Puck who was sitting next to her in the conference room.

_Subject: FBI Involvement_

_I have decided to place FBI agent Finn Hudson on the case with you. He's the best in the Eastern division and has graciously agreed to help in our situation. He'll be in the office Monday morning at 8 AM for a full debriefing. _

_Be on your best behavior. I expect results._

"Finn Hudson," Santana repeated, her voice on edge.

"You know him?"

"Yes. So you do. He's the guy that headed the Rodriguez case when they let the perp get away twice."

"Fuck, really? Of course."

Puck could tell Santana's emotions were on the brink of a disaster so he quickly chimed in as optimistically as possible, "It could be worse, though. At least we still have control, Lopez. It could be worse."

Santana nodded, trying to convince herself that he was right. She read the email again, hoping to find a silver lining, but she found no such thing. Suddenly, the room seemed to be closing in on her. The bulletin boards filled with pictures of all 16 victims and their past crime scenes were all she could see. She stood up quickly, trying to shake the unsettling feeling that was now coming over her.

"Hey, Santana, you okay?" Puck asked as he stood up to, putting his hand on her arm to try and calm her down.

"I'm fine. I just need to get out of here," she said, her voice masking the rising breakdown she could feel bubbling beneath her straight face.

"See you tomorrow," she continued as she briskly gathered her things and headed out the door.

...

Santana was almost glad to see that Brittany hadn't arrived yet when she got home. Honestly, she didn't like the thought of her girlfriend seeing her so flustered. She needed time to herself, time to cool down and to think through her current situation.

She headed to the building's gym, which was in the basement. Working out was never something that Santana particularly enjoyed - the idea of running in place for extended periods of time drove her mad - but sometimes it was the only thing that provided relief when she was worked up like this.

So Santana hopped on an open treadmill and ran, jogging at first and then picking up her speed as if she were trying to outrun her frustration. Puck was right, it could be worse; they could have lost the case completely. But it still was irritating. As Santana's legs fell into an easy pace, she searched for the root of her annoyance. It became pretty obvious that it was just this damn case. It was the longest unsolved case she'd ever worked on, and it was by far the most complicated case the department had faced in years. And now because Brittany was in the picture, Santana realized she was feeling more pressure. Now she had a lot more to lose.

After a few miles, her legs felt like jello. Discontent still burned in her gut as she took the elevator back up to her apartment to shower. She turned on the water and let it run to the right temperature as she focused on clearing her head. Just as she stripped down and wrapped herself in a towel, she turned around to see Brittany standing in the doorway.

"Shit!" Santana gasped, clutching her towel over her heart, "You scared me."

"Sorry, San," Brittany said, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," she replied with a heavy sigh. Sensing Santana's mood, Brittany took a step closer and tried to get a better read on her girlfriend.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asked tentatively, although she wasn't surprised when Santana shook her head.

"Can I help?" she then asked, pointing towards the shower. Santana nodded and stepped closer, letting the girl's arms envelop her. They stood that way, the brunette tucked in Brittany's arms, for a while.

"You're so tense," the blonde finally said as she kissed down Santana's neck and over her open shoulders. "Relax."

Santana closed her eyes and focused on Brittany's breath against her skin. She rolled her shoulders back, letting her towel drop.

"Thatta girl. Come on, let's get in," Brittany said with warm eyes as she took off her own shirt.

...

After they showered and had some dinner, Santana finally felt more like herself again. It helped that Brittany was now playing with her hair and assuring her that it would all be okay.

Once they'd gotten into bed, Santana really began venting. She told Brittany about the FBI involvement without getting into the nitty gritty details. But most of what she revealed dealt with her frustration about working a case this difficult, and how she felt as though the pressure was starting to get to her.

As Santana spilled, Brittany realized she was witnessing a brief moment of vulnerability. She wasn't sure how often this happened, so she remained very calm and understanding. She did whatever she could to encourage Santana to continue; she listened and agreed when appropriate, and she was careful not to push any buttons that would cause the conversation to end.

The two talked until they couldn't keep their eyes open anymore. Cuddled in Brittany's arms, Santana felt safe and at ease. She was quickly entering a state of sleepy delusion, but just before she drifted off, she mustered up some clarity,

"You're my anchor, ya know that? I swear, sometimes if you weren't here to calm me down I'd just float away."

Brittany smiled and held her tighter, showering kisses on the back of her neck.

"No one's gonna float away, sweetheart."

...

Although much had changed in Brittany's life since meeting Santana, one night stayed the same - and that was her Friday nights at the studio. Every week, she still locked herself in studio C and worked on her latest choreography she had been thinking over that week. She had to admit that her Friday nights had become more alive than ever, and she knew it was because she was more inspired than ever - all thanks to Santana.

Not only were her Friday nights better, but work in general also seemed to be going more smoothly than normal. Mike noticed the change in Brittany's demeanor almost instantly. The way she acted in and out of class - and especially the way she was now dancing. She just always seemed to be glowing.

"Even more than usual," he said when he finally brought it up one afternoon they were going over the studio's budget.

"Yeah, I guess so," Brittany replied as she idly played with a pen on her desk.

"That Santana...," Mike shook his head before continuing. "She must be pretty special."

He raised an eyebrow and Brittany simply shrugged with a smile, thinking he was one hundred percent right about that.

...

This particular Friday, Brittany was especially looking forward to getting some time in the studio. Her favorite artist had just released a new CD, and she had choreographed about ten different dances in her mind during classes that week. She couldn't wait to get them out of her head and organized.

At her lunch break, Santana picked up her phone to call Brittany who had down time between classes.

"Wanna watch a movie tonight? I was thinking a marathon. A bunch of Disney movies you like just got put on Netflix."

"I can't, silly. Well not until later. It's Friday, remember?"

Santana nodded and recalled that Friday nights were reserved for Brittany's studio time.

"Hey, you know what?" the blonde offered optimistically. "How about you stop by the studio tonight?"

There was an awkward pause, and Brittany knew Santana was hesitating while thinking over whether or not it was a good idea.

"Please?"

The silence continued for a few more seconds, and Santana exhaled loudly before answering.

"Britt, you know I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because...I don't..." she stumbled but continued. "It's not safe."

The annoyance that Brittany was usually so good at keeping down was slowly starting to boil over. "Why don't we get Sam to help us? Can't he escort you or something?"

"I don't want to get Sam involved. I don't want to risk giving up the studio. You're there everyday."

Now it was Brittany's turn to pause. She took a deep breath to stifle her anger as she carefully mulled over what she could say that she wouldn't regret later.

"Britt? I'm sorry. Please don't be mad, I just don't want anything to happen - "

"I'm not mad. It's fine. Forget I asked," she said, but the stiffness in her voice gave her away.

"Baby, please. You know I want to, I just -"

"It's fine, Santana. I said forget it. I have to go," she said quickly, hanging up before Santana could say anything.

...

After that call, work was pointless. There was no way Santana was going to be able to be productive knowing that she and Brittany were currently in the middle of their first fight.

When Brittany hung up on her, Santana decided it would be smart to wait at least an hour to let her girlfriend cool off before calling again. But when the phone rang once and went straight to voicemail, Santana began to get concerned. She let another hour pass before trying again, and got the same result. It was unlike Brittany to leave a call unreturned, and when Santana found her texts were being ignored as well, she knew this fight was nowhere close to being over.

In the conference room, Puck noticed Santana spinning her phone on the table as if she were willing a text message to arrive. After Santana explained what happened, she admitted that she might be a little paranoid about the studio, but she still stood by the fact that Brittany's safety was not something she ever planned to risk.

...

After almost a full day of paperwork and searching for a needle in a haystack of data, Santana decided to work late by herself to keep her mind of Brittany. Since the blonde still hadn't returned any of her calls, Santana assumed she wouldn't be seeing her tonight anyway.

Because Finn Hudson was going to be arriving on Monday, Santana prayed to find something as she scanned through evidence logs she'd already been over a hundred times. She thought maybe if she found something they missed before, they'd be able to call off the FBI involvement. But her hope was dwindling and her vision was blurring as time passed. It was past 10 when she received a text from Puck.

_Go home already. Get some sleep._

She rolled her eyes, knowing he was right. Obeying her partner's sound advice, she packed up and headed home.

...

When Santana arrived at her apartment, she found it was almost unrecognizable. Everything had been re-arranged. The furniture was completely cleared out of the living room. Half of it was stacked away in her bedroom and the other half was pushed against the back wall. The hardwood floors were sparkling clean, and music was playing from an iPod dock in the corner of the room. It took Santana a second to realize that Brittany had turned her apartment into a studio.

Santana heard a pattering of feet across the ground and saw Brittany peer around from the kitchen. When the blonde saw her girlfriend standing at the door, she ran towards her. Before Santana could even speak, Brittany nearly knocked her over with a hug. She wrapped her arms tightly around the brunette, and Santana noticed Brittany's scent was more intoxicating than usual.

"I'm really sorry about today," Brittany finally mustered up, still embracing Santana. "I understand why you shouldn't go to the studio. I just lost it for a minute. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Santana said, looking over the dancer's shoulder to admire her homemade studio.

Brittany pulled away from their hug slowly, "Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"And I'm sorry I kind of wrecked your place," she said, motioning behind her.

"Don't apologize, I'm the one who's sorry. I felt terrible all day. I'm really glad you did this."

"Really?" Brittany asked, her face lighting up.

"Really," Santana replied before leaning on her tiptoes so their lips could meet. The two smiled in between kisses as they quickly got carried away. It was Brittany who finally separated their lips before grabbing Santana's hand and leading her to the chair she'd placed at the front of the studio.

"I just, I want to share this part of my life with you. I've been wanting to for a while."

Santana nodded and took a seat. "Well I can't wait to see."

Brittany smiled and turned to put on her favorite song. "I'm gonna show you what my Friday night routine is like."

"Just act like I'm not here," Santana said, casually with a smirk. The dancer nodded, but of course that was going to be impossible. The fact that her lover's eyes were going to be intensely glued to her the whole time she danced was definitely going to make things different.

Wearing leggings, a sports bra, and a tank top, the blonde stretched a little bit as the song built up to the chorus. As soon as the catchy pop beat picked up tempo, Brittany fell into her choreographed step she had worked on earlier before Santana arrived. She danced seamlessly along to the rhythm with her body emphasizing each note perfectly.

Her choreography was more than creative; it was genius. With the way she moved it seemed as though the song was created specifically for her. It was as if she had given the song a new meaning - a new purpose. And it wasn't just that one track. Brittany had this effect on every song that played.

Santana watched, mesmerized, as Brittany lost sense of time. The dancer moved in ways Santana didn't even think were possible. All of those moves and maneuvers she had once seen on shows like So You Think You Can Dance and America's Best Dance Crew were now on display in front of her.

After a couple of pop songs, Brittany put on a playlist of more contemporary songs. The tempo was now slower, so her dancing was more controlled and somehow even more beautiful than before.

The calming tracks showed off Brittany's strength, which was always undeniable. Anyone could see it in the girl's appearance. She was tall and slender, but still visibly muscular and toned. Santana knew her strength better than anyone - she could feel it when they hugged, she witnessed it when the blonde picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, and she craved it when they made love. But now, watching her strength come to life in the form of which it was created, Santana was speechless.

The next hour or so went by with Santana hanging on the edge of her seat. After the last song, the brunette stood up and moved to meet Brittany who was slightly out of breath. Her forehead shined with remnants of sweat, but Santana couldn't remember her ever being more gorgeous.

"God, you're so...so..." Santana stumbled trying to find the right words. Brittany cocked her head, stared with deep blue eyes, and waited on her.

"Captivating. Amazing," she finally spit out but then shook her head, still at a loss for words. Brittany smiled and patiently waited as she soaked in the way Santana was looking at her in that moment.

"Brittany, that was so beautiful. I've never seen anyone dance like that. With that much passion and talent and..." she paused to tuck blond hair that fell loose from her ponytail behind her ear. Brittany watched her intently, flushing now from the complements but still hanging on to Santana's every word. "It was brilliant."

"You really think so?"

"I absolutely think so."

"Thanks," Brittany said, her voice soft and shy.

"We gotta get a bigger apartment," Santana said, looking at the homemade studio around them. Brittany giggled and pulled the brunette in by her t-shirt for a long kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

_Short and sweet chapter this time around. I think you'll like it, though. :) Thanks to all for reviewing and following! I really appreciate it :)_

...

Brittany rolled over and checked her phone to see it was 10:30 in the morning. Of course, she'd been up for a couple of hours now, but she always had a hard time waking Santana. Since getting up around 8, she had already cleaned the kitchen, made coffee and tea, fixed some pancakes, and then cleaned the kitchen again.

Saturday mornings usually went something like this. Brittany tried to keep herself occupied for as long as possible before reaching a state of boredom that drove her to wake her girlfriend up. When that happened, the blonde would crawl back in bed and trace her fingers lightly over her Santana's back or arm until she hummed a response.

Today, however, was different. Today was Santana's birthday; and since it was a special day, Brittany decided to let her girlfriend sleep in as late as she wanted.

Brittany had to use her resources to find out when Santana's birthday was. If she hadn't asked Sam when they first started dating, she would have never known since Santana didn't mentioned it. If it were anyone else, Brittany probably would've called them out. But since she knew Santana so well, she just figured she didn't like to make a big deal out of it. But birthdays were Brittany's favorite thing. And she wanted to make today memorable.

Around 11:15, Santana stirred in her sleep, which caused her to wake up. She groaned a little, stretched, and reached out for Brittany who was next to her reading. The blonde put down her book and smiled. Then she used her lips instead of her fingers and kissed a trail up Santana's arm.

"Mmm," the brunette mustered up after several more kisses.

"Morning," Brittany whispered against warm skin.

"Mmm," she hummed again, not ready for words just yet.

"Happy birthday, pretty girl."

"Ughhh," Santana turned over so she was lying on her back and put her hands over her eyes.

"What?"

"How'd you know?"

"What do you mean, how'd I know? I'm your girlfriend. It's like my job to know these things."

Santana sighed, acknowledging that she was right.

"I'm sorry. I just don't like my birthday," she shrugged.

"Well I assumed that much," Brittany said, slipping under the covers and sliding closer. "Why?"

"I don't know, I never really have. I don't get what all the fuss is about," she explained casually. When she saw Brittany's blue eyes pressing for more, she continued. "And it reminds me of family stuff I'd rather not think about."

Noting the deflated tone in her voice, Brittany decided that was a story for another time.

"Okay," the blonde accepted.

"You don't have something planned, do you?" Santana asked, fearful of the answer.

"No..." Brittany said, quickly averting her eyes from the ones that were staring her down. "I mean, yes. But it's nothing big...we can cancel. We can do whatever you want. It's your day."

Brittany's last sentence repeated in Santana's mind and guilt tore through her. It was then she noticed that she was about to get mad over the fact that her girlfriend, who clearly cared about her, put together something to make her happy. She didn't do it for herself or for the credit. She expected nothing in return; it was all for Santana. This was a new concept, and the realization itself was probably the best birthday gift Santana would ever receive.

"No, it's okay. Let's stick to your plan."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Santana nodded, sealing the deal with a quick kiss.

"Okay," the dancer beamed. "I promise it's not a big deal."

"If you planned it, I'm sure I'll love it."

Brittany smiled wider now and then adjusted herself in bed so she was now in Santana's lap, straddling her.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't have anything planned until dinner. What do you wanna do, birthday girl?"

"I get to pick anything?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Mhmm. Anything."

"I have a few things in mind," Santana smirked, pulling the blonde down to meet her lips.

...

The two spent the day in bed, watching Netflix among other things. Around five o'clock when it was time to get ready for their reservations, Brittany headed over to the closet and picked out a red dress.

"Wear this," she said, handing the dress to Santana.

"Ohh, fancy, huh? And what are you gonna wear?"

"You'll see," Brittany winked before heading into the bathroom to change.

...

The night Brittany had planned would not have been possible without the help of Sam and Puck.

Sam had figured out the logistics of transporting them from place to place, and he had also called ahead to the restaurant and club to make special arrangements for their arrival. Puck, on the other hand, did his part by not giving away the surprise during that week of work.

First, Brittany took Santana to her favorite Italian restaurant. When they sat down, she explained that this was the place that she wanted to take them on their first date.

"Ya know, after you turned me down all those times...I finally got the nerve to ask you to dinner," Brittany teased.

"I know, I know. And then I said no and offered up the brilliant idea that I make you dinner instead. That was a sad excuse for a pasta dish."

Brittany laughed and nodded.

"I wish we could've had our first date here," Santana said more seriously. "But I'm really glad we're here now."

"Me too," the blonde agreed with a warm smile.

...

When they finished dinner, Sam picked them up and took them to Santana's favorite club in the city. The two had never gone there as a couple, but Brittany had heard many stories of Santana's past crazy nights with her two best guy friends.

Sam led the two girls past the bouncers and upstairs to the VIP lounges.

"You look so unbelievably hot," Santana whispered in Brittany's ear as they walked. She had been admiring her tight fitting black dress since dinner. "That dress. I've never seen it before."

The blonde smirked, "It's new. I got it for you."

"You're amazing."

"Happy birthday, baby," she said just as Sam stopped at their booth where Puck and a few of Santana's friends from the station were waiting.

"Bottle service, motherfuckers!" Puck greeted loudly, handing Santana a bottle of champagne.

"What?" Santana gasped, still trying to identify faces and figure out how this whole thing was put together. "What are you guys doing here?!"

"Brittany invited us," Puck said, flashing a huge grin at the blonde. "Didn't you know? She's a genius. And I like her better than you now."

Generally, Santana hated surprises. And her birthday. But right then, looking at all the people she was surrounded by, she couldn't find one thing to complain about. Her eyes found Brittany's, and she reached out for her hand.

"Happy birthday, Santana," Puck said to her before turning to the group to propose a toast.

"To Lopez!" he yelled, throwing his hand and bottle of liquor in the air.

...

The rest of the night couldn't have gone better. Puck, Sam and the others from the station polished off plenty of alcohol and were finally able to hang out in a stress-free environment. No one thought about the FBI agent's arrival in two short days. They all just relaxed and had a much needed good time.

Santana spent the night split between socializing with her friends and being completely absorbed in Brittany. The dancer got along with Puck and the guys great, and she seemed to be particularly adorable for some reason that Santana couldn't quite pinpoint. Santana was so happy, she even let Brittany dazzle her on the dance floor (which was the blonde's personal favorite part of the evening).

By the time they got home, their buzz had worn off and they were both exhausted. It was past two in the morning when they took off their dresses and crawled into bed.

"I got you something," Brittany said, sitting up and fighting off a yawn.

"You what?" Santana asked as the blonde rolled over and reached for something under the bed.

"Brittany, you didn't have to get me anything. This night, it's been amazing. I don't need anything else."

"Oh, shush. Open it," the dancer said, handing her a black box.

Just as Brittany suspected, Santana looked as though she were in pain as she opened the present. Her face changed dramatically, though, as she pulled a silver necklace from the box. Santana ran her fingers over the small, silver anchor charm that hung from the end of the chain.

"You know, just to make sure you won't float away," Brittany explained.

Santana was speechless. She said a silent thank you to the fact that the lights were off so Brittany couldn't see her fighting off tears.

"Please," she said, turning so Brittany could put on the necklace for her.

Once it was secure around her neck, Santana still didn't quite know what to say to tell Brittany how she was feeling. How grateful she was. And how no one had ever treated her this way before. So instead, she placed her hand on Brittany's cheek and leaned in for a kiss. It was soft at first, but then became more passionate, urgent even. Santana wanted to make sure this kiss was different.

When she pulled away, she cleared her throat, "I love it. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Brittany said, almost breathless. Even this far into their relationship, Santana still had a way of giving her butterflies. Like the kind that made you shy. The kind that were addicting. In that moment, Brittany felt nothing but butterflies.

...

It had been almost an hour since the girls had stopped talking and settled down to go to bed. Brittany, however, couldn't sleep. It was like her mind was running on high. As usual, her curiosity got the best of her and she tapped Santana lightly to see if she was still awake, too.

"Are you scared?" Brittany's voice sounded sad.

It took Santana a minute to comprehend the question. "Of what?"

"Him," she said softly, needing no more explanation.

"No, I'm not scared."

"Why not?"

Santana rolled over so their foreheads were almost touching, "Because. He might be intimidating, but he's really just a coward. It's only a matter of time before we catch him."

There was a long pause as Brittany let the girl's words sink in. She couldn't help but still feel uneasy.

"I'm scared," she admitted, trying to control her breathing.

Hearing those words sent Santana into her protective mode. Instinctively, she put her arm around Brittany's lower back and pulled her closer.

"Baby, don't be scared. He's never going to come close to you. I won't let it happen."

"I'm not scared of that. I'm scared for _you_," she said, the sincerity in her voice clear. Santana half-smiled at the sentiment and began moving her fingers back and forth on Brittany's back.

"Nothing's gonna happen to me, Britt. It's gonna be okay."

Santana tried to assure her, but Brittany said nothing in return. The brunette ran the pad of her thumb across her girlfriend's cheek.

"Hey, are you crying?"

Brittany shook her head, sniffled a little, and wiped away her lingering tears.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," the blonde insisted.

"Okay. You were like half a second ago, though," Santana said with a light-hearted smile.

Brittany took a deep breath and tilted her head up so their eyes met.

"I love you," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That's all."

Santana could feel her own tears start to form and she kissed Brittany hard before they could fall.

"I love you, too. So much."

Santana gave her a contagious smile, and now, Brittany was crying a different sort of cry. A few tears of relief and happiness fell as Santana soothed her with kisses and words, "I promise that everything will be okay."


	8. Chapter 8

_Looks like this story is turning out to have more chapters than I thought! I originally anticipated it only being 8 but this is definitely not the last update. I'm trying to be good about posting, but there may be some delays coming up since I'm in the midst of applying for jobs and getting ready to face the real world. But for now, I hope you like this chapter. And as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!_

...

"Kiss ass," Santana muttered to Puck as they watched Agent Finn Hudson banter with the lieutenant. "I fucking hate that guy."

"Me too. And it's only been two hours."

After trying to deny that it would actually ever happen, Monday morning finally rolled around and Agent Finn Hudson showed up the station at 8 AM sharp. Almost immediately, Puck and Santana began bring him up to date on every detail of the case.

It was going to be a long day since the piles of evidence belonging to the Sniper case could be stacked in two columns that would practically reach the ceiling. It didn't help that Puck and Santana found that they had to go at a pace slower than they'd like to make sure Finn comprehended everything. He constantly had questions, and most of which were already answered. In order to keep their sanity, they took a break every hour.

"Here he comes," Puck whispered just as the Finn opened the door to the conference room.

"Hello again, detectives!" he greeted over-enthusiastically, just enough to annoy the living hell out of Santana. No one should be that excited that early, yet the two would eventually learn that Finn was always this chipper and oblivious in the morning.

"Hudson," Puck responded, acknowledging the agent for both himself and Santana, since she rarely spoke unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Listen, I know we're on a schedule, but I was just talking with the lieutenant and I came up with a great idea. You know the incident that happened a while back where you guys almost caught the Sniper at that old motel? I believe you were shot, correct?" he said, directing his question to Santana.

Since they had just gone over that part of the case before the break, she nodded and Finn continued.

"Well, it would make sense for him to be staying at a similar type of place now. Like another old hotel or motel or something like that. Except, assuming that he's learned from his mistakes, he probably doesn't stay at one place for too long. So my idea is, we should send the Sniper's description and whereabouts out to the mangers of those types of places that are located in the surrounding area of where we almost caught him at last time."

"First off, Hudson, there is no 'we' in that statement," Santana snapped. "You had nothing to do with that - Puck and I ran that operation. Secondly, I hate to break it to you, but we came up with that great idea already. Our team has been keeping tabs on similar motels for months now."

"Oh," Finn said, confused as to how anyone else could possibly have the same idea as him.

"Yep," Puck chimed in, taking over. "We gave the mangers a physical description and also told them to look for odd check-in patterns. Assuming the Sniper only stays at one location for a couple nights at a time, he may be returning to the same places on a monthly basis."

"Dang. You guys are good."

"We know," Santana said with as much attitude as possible. "Puck, see if you can squeeze anymore great ideas out of our new friend. I'm going to get more coffee."

...

After a month of Agent Hudson joining the department, things with the case were exactly the same. However, Santana would tell you that they was much worse due to the fact that Hudson set her teeth on edge on a daily basis. She couldn't even stand looking at the guy.

The only good news was that the Sniper was still inactive; he hadn't contacted anyone in the department or committed a crime since victim 16, which occurred right before Santana and Brittany had their first date.

As an attempt to escape Finn and the office, Santana started a routine of locking herself in her apartment for one day a week with all the latest evidence and leads. She and Brittany began calling those days, "lock down days," and it gave Santana a chance to clear her head and focus on the evidence without Finn annoying her or Puck throwing out his crazy theories.

The first half of lock down days were usually productive, but as the hours passed, Santana would find herself getting distracted way too easily. A picture of her and Brittany on her desk would catch her eye and before she knew it, she was daydreaming for twenty minutes. It was crazy how the blonde could distract her when she wasn't even there.

Santana had learned to plan her lock downs according to the dancer's work schedule because it was nearly impossible to focus with Brittany next to her. It wasn't that Brittany intentionally tried to distract her (because when that happened, Santana was useless). It was just that everything about the girl pulled Santana in. Like the way she stirred in her sleep, or how Santana'd catch her smiling at the book she was reading, or the way her laughter could carry from room to room.

...

This particular lock down day, Santana had barely started working but she was already having a harder time than usual focusing. Maybe it was because she and Puck were hosting a big debriefing meeting the next day with the whole department. They had been prepared for a few days now, but Santana was paranoid about details and she wanted to make sure everything was just right.

At 9:10 AM, she was almost happy to snap out of her daze when her phone started ringing. When she saw it was from a number she didn't recognize, she decided to let it go to voicemail. If it was really important, they'd leave a message and she could call back.

Just as she picked up a document about victim 16 on her desk, her phone buzzed again from the same number.

"Miss Lopez?"

"Yeah?" Santana's annoyance was audible.

"My name is Dr. Robbins, I'm an attending here at Northwestern."

"Okay..."

"Brittany told us to call you - "

"What?" Santana interrupted. "Brittany? Is she okay?"

"She's stable now. She was in an accident..."

"An accident?" she practically yelled.

"Yes, an accident. A hit and run, I think. She was on her bike..."

"Jesus fucking Christ, is she okay?" Santana spit out as she stood up from her desk and attempted to gather her shoes and jacket.

"Yes, Miss Lopez, if you'd let me finish. She's stable now but she's asking for you. You should get down here."

"Of course, okay. Thanks."

Panicked, Santana hung up the phone and frantically searched for her keys. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her together as she grabbed her purse and flew out the door.

...

The drive to the hospital was a blur, and Santana spent most of that time cursing that god-forsaken bike. A couple weeks ago, Brittany decided she was going to start riding her bike to work again like she used to, instead of letting Sam and his people take her. Santana preferred that she go with Sam, but after a long discussion, the blonde convinced her it would be fine. She insisted that she liked the fresh air, and that the studio wasn't that far, anyway.

"Hi, um, I'm looking for Brittany Pierce, could you tell me what room she's in?" Santana said to the woman at the front desk, a little out of breath from running in from her car.

"Sure, ma'am. One second."

Unconsciously, Santana began strumming her fingers against the counter; she only realized she was doing so when the woman glared at her.

"Oh, sorry."

The nurse shook her head before saying, "324."

"Thanks," Santana said quickly as she took off down the hallway to find the elevator.

...

When Santana arrived at the door, a doctor was standing in the hallway reviewing some charts.

"Excuse me, are you Brittany's doctor?"

"Yes," the woman said, extending her hand. "I'm Dr. Torres, you must be Santana."

"That's right," she confirmed, peering over the doctor's shoulder to see if she could spot Brittany.

"Glad you're here. The worst is over but, as you'll see when you go in there, she's pretty banged up. We have already helped her file a police report, but it looks like it was a hit and run. It wasn't her fault, she was obeying traffic signs."

Santana nodded but wasn't surprised. "What about her injuries?"

"She was unconscious at the scene but woke up in the ambulance on the way here. She suffered a concussion, but besides that, her injuries are about what you would expect for a hit and run when the pedestrian is on a bike. Her right leg is broken and she tore a few ligaments around her knee. She dislocated her shoulder and broke her left wrist as well."

Reading the look of deep concern on Santana's face, Dr. Torres continued, "But overall, it's nothing too serious, it all should heal with time."

"Did she tell you she's a dancer?"

"She did. With physical therapy and what not, she should be able to get back to dancing within the next couple of months. It all depends on how her leg heals."

"Alright. Thanks, doctor."

"Sure. Why don't you head in there, she's been asking for you for a while now."

Santana opened the door slowly to see Brittany in a state she could never imagine. Quickly, she rushed to the blonde's side - bruises covered her arms, her right leg was elevated in a cast, and there were cuts and scrapes scattered on her face.

"Hey," Santana said in a hushed whisper, her eyes still scanning her girlfriend in the bed.

"Hi, you," Brittany replied with a weak, straining smile.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine, San. I'm just glad you're here."

"You're obviously not fine," she said, trying to keep her voice from rising. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged. "They left."

Santana pulled the chair that was against the wall closer to the bed and sat down. She took the blonde's cast-free hand with both of hers and held it tight.

"God, I'm so sorry," Santana practically whispered as her eyes began to get misty.

"It's not your fault, San."

"I should've been there, I...I'm supposed to protect you," she continued.

"Santana," Brittany insisted, breaking their hands so she could touch the brunette's cheek, "This is not your fault."

"I...I should've given you a ride. Sam should've given you a ride. He should always give you a ride. You shouldn't have to ride that fucking bike to work," Santana said, almost to herself, shaking her head.

"Hey. I like that bike," Brittany pouted playfully.

"Britt, this is serious. You're not going to be able to dance for months."

"I know," the blonde replied, her voice matching Santana's stern face.

"So why aren't you freaking out?"

Brittany paused for a moment before answering, "I think you're doing enough freaking out for the both of us."

"I guess I am. I'm sorry...I'm just not good with this kind of thing."

"I know. It's okay."

Santana sighed deeply and began stroking her thumb over Brittany's knuckles.

"Will you come give me a kiss now?" the blonde said, licking her lips. "I've been waiting for one since you got here."

"Of course, baby."

...

Just to be safe, Brittany's doctors decided to keep her overnight to watch her concussion. Santana stayed by her side for most of the day, only excusing herself a couple of times to make calls to the station. She told Sam about the hit and run, and he promised to head up the investigation personally and keep her updated.

Santana did whatever she could to keep Brittany comfortable. Due to the painkillers, the blonde was pretty out of it for a majority of the day. After dinner, she fell asleep, leaving Santana alone with her thoughts.

Sitting on a chair next to Brittany's bed, Santana watched the 6 o'clock news where her girlfriend was the main story. She listened as the reporter explained how the police had no leads, and that the victim refused an interview - both of which Santana had already known.

Feeling uneasy, she turned off the TV and grabbed her phone and saw a text from Puck.

_- You okay? How's Britt?_

_- Fine. Sleeping now. Do you think this could have been him?_

_- What? The Sniper? This hit and run? No way. Just a coincidence, Lopez. Don't think too far into it._

_- You know that's pretty much impossible, right?_

_- I know. I just talked to Sam, though. They'll find the guy so you can rest easy._

_- Hopefully. Thanks, Puck._

_- Of course. Give Britt a kiss for me when she wakes up. ;)_

_- Perv._

...

After a while, Brittany was still sound asleep so Santana turned the TV back to find that one of her favorite crime shows was on. She didn't make it through the show, though. Exhausted from the stressful day, she passed out before it ended.

Hours later, the blonde woke up in a clouded haze. It took her a minute to grasp her surroundings, but even then she still felt out of it.

"San?"

Brittany repeated herself again before Santana woke up, a little startled. She stood up and sat on the side of the bed.

"Yeah, baby?"

"What time is it? How long have I been out?"

"It's, um...," Santana reached for her phone in her pocket. "It's a little after 2 in the morning. You've been sleeping since after dinner."

"You stayed?"

"Of course I stayed," she said, taking Brittany's hand.

"But what about your meeting in the morning?"

"Don't worry about that, Puck's got me covered. Besides, I have more important places to be."

Brittany opened her mouth to refute - normally she wouldn't let her girlfriend miss any work because of her - but then decided against it. Her head was pounding, and Santana was pretty irresistible when she was worried.

"Come here," the blonde said, moving over as much as she could manage so Santana could fit on the bed with her.

"No, it's okay, I'm fine. I want you to be comfortable."

"You're cute. But I'm most comfortable with you. Come here."

Santana thought about staying put, but then saw the look on Brittany's face and knew the blonde would get her way. So carefully, Santana slipped into bed next to her.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Brittany teased.

"I love you," Santana said with a smirk. "Even though you're a goofball."

"I love you, too," the dancer beamed, and for a minute, she forgot about the pain that had been consuming her for most of the day.

...

In a wheelchair, Brittany was sent home the next day. Since she was not physically capable of living on her own, her doctors agreed it would be best if she stayed at Santana's for a while. At least until her wrist healed so then she could just use crutches.

Sam picked the girls up from the hospital and took them back to the apartment where he helped Brittany into bed where she'd have to stay for the next few days. After lunch, Brittany took a nap and Santana took the opportunity to press Sam for every detail she could about the hit and run.

There were no suspects or leads, and unfortunately the camera that was set up at the intersection of the accident was down for maintenance that morning. Sam assured her that the team was doing everything in their power to solve the case, but at the moment, all they knew was that they believed the suspect's vehicle to be a van or a truck based off the severity of Brittany's injuries.

When Brittany woke up, it was time for her next round of pain medication before Mike stopped by to visit. She then spent the next hour or so filling him in on what was currently going on in her different classes since he would have to cover for her until she was back on her feet. Brittany even offered that they hire their friend Blaine to do some part time work since she probably wouldn't be able to teach again for a couple of months.

Because of Brittany's status, even the tiniest bit of activity exhausted her. When Mike left, Sam cooked the girls dinner and served it to them in bed. Just like a five star restaurant, Santana had commented. Brittany only ate half her plate, and after, she passed out cold from her meds.

...

The next morning, it seemed as though their roles were reversed. Santana woke up around 8 AM without complaint and made breakfast. After googling the best recipe for pancakes, she set out to impress her girl.

When Brittany woke up around 10, Santana brought her pancakes, fruit, and tea in bed.

"This can't be real," the blonde joked as Santana approached with the extravagant meal on a tray.

"Oh, it's real, baby."

Santana watched with pride as Brittany scarfed down the breakfast. It had been the first meal she finished in its entirety since the accident.

"What, you're not going to save any for me?" Santana said as she watched the dancer take a bite out of the last pancake.

"Nope. All mine," Brittany smirked with her mouth full.

"Fair enough. But as soon as you're outta this bed you're back to cooking. That was the most stressful hour I've ever spent in the kitchen."

"I'm sure it was," the blonde rolled her eyes and smiled. "And guess what. You get to clean up, too."

Santana sighed sarcastically before kissing Brittany's forehead and taking the tray back to the kitchen. When she returned to bed, her girlfriend had turned on the TV and was now watching The Price is Right.

"Hey...I, um," the brunette stumbled slowly, unsure if now was the right time to start this conversation. "I was, ya know, thinking..."

"You are adorable when you're nervous," Brittany interrupted, completely entertained as she watched Santana figure out her sentence in her head. "Just spit it out, babe."

"I think you should...well, I want you to move in."

"You mean until I get back on my feet?" Brittany asked, motioning to her casts.

"No, I mean even after that."

"Really?" a grin grew wide on the blonde's face.

Santana nodded before officially asking, "Do you want to move in with me?"

When an answer didn't come right away, the brunette took that as a bad sign and began fumbling over an explanation.

"I know it may seem early, but I don't know...I can't explain it. Things with us have been going so great. Everything is just better with you. The nights you're not here, I don't sleep well anymore. I want you closer all the time."

Brittany looked at Santana long and hard, committing to memory the words she had just said.

"Okay," she finally replied. "I'll move in with you."

"Yeah? Just like that?"

"Mhmm. Just like that," she smiled and wrinkled her nose a little. "I've actually been waiting for you to ask me."

"Really?"

"Yep," Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana on the lips, pulling her closer before breaking away. "Took ya long enough."


	9. Chapter 9

_So I originally planned for this next chapter to be a long one, but I decided to split it into two so I could update it faster for you guys. Buckle your seat belts. It's about to get interesting. (As always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing!)_

* * *

"I did not think it was possible for a girl to have that big of a closet, Britt," Mike said as he carried the last box of her things through the door.

"Yeah, for real. You're lucky you're currently handicapped, blondie. My labor is in high demand," Puck said, emerging from behind the stack of boxes they had piled in the living room.

It was late on a Sunday afternoon and with the promise of limitless pizza and beer, the couple had managed to convince Puck, Sam, and Mike to help move Brittany in.

"Oh, quit your bitching," Santana said before taking a seat next to Brittany at the kitchen table. Instantly, the blonde placed her hand on Santana's knee. It was a small gesture but it was so automatic that it made Santana feel warm and dizzy.

"The pizza'll be here in 10 minutes," Brittany added with a smile.

"Perfect timing!" Sam yelled, grabbing five beers from the fridge and handing them to everyone.

"Cheers to you guys," he said to Brittany and Santana with a grin.

"Are you kidding?! Cheers to us!" Puck emphasized before raising his beer in the air, "The willing and abled men who slaved for hours making this move possible."

"You are something else," Santana said, rolling her eyes and laughing with the rest of the room.

...

After the boys demolished a few boxes of pizza, they headed home and left Brittany and Santana alone in their apartment. Although Brittany had been living there for a week now since she left the hospital, the reality of moving in with Santana just started to sink in.

Simply thinking about unpacking the small mountain of boxes was exhausting enough, so the two decided to tackle that in bits throughout the week. It was getting late, so Santana helped Brittany into bed and joined her.

"This is officially our place now," the blonde said, placing a kiss on Santana's forehead.

"Sure is."

"Have you told your parents yet?" Brittany asked softly, even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

Things at home for Santana were much different than what Brittany was used to. Compared to her girlfriend, Brittany had it easy growing up. Her family accepted her fluid sexuality in high school and her relationships were never judged or questioned. She was very close with her younger sister, Meredith, and she considered her mom to be one of her best friends. Both Meredith and Mrs. Pierce were fully aware of Brittany's relationship with Santana and were itching to meet her.

Santana, on the other hand, dealt with things Brittany couldn't even imagine when she came out to her family. Her grandma disowned her and her relationship with her mother was still broken and mending to this day. Thankfully her father was her only ally in the family, although his disagreements with his wife over Santana's lifestyle eventually led to a divorce. Santana was fairly close with her father, but they rarely discussed personal things. Since he was a cop in Ohio, they mostly just talked work.

"No," Santana responded flatly before rolling over so she was lying on her back.

"Hey," Brittany cooed and turned so she was lying on her side, facing the brunette. She placed her hand on Santana's stomach and pressed a kiss to her neck. "It's okay, babe."

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not. I want you to be comfortable and happy. You tell them whenever."

Santana turned to face Brittany so their foreheads were almost touching.

"You need to know that it doesn't have anything to do with you. I'm proud of you. I'm proud you're my girlfriend. I'm proud you moved in with me. I'm not telling my parents because it will just open old wounds. It will cause more drama than anything. It has nothing to do with you, okay?"

Brittany nodded and smiled before kissing the corner of Santana's mouth, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

...

It was another gloomy Monday morning at the station. Santana arrived at her normal time but had already drank three cups of coffee. She knew it was going to be a long day. Since they had promised not to talk about it in front of Brittany, Santana anxiously waited for Sam's arrival so she could get an update on the hit and run.

When Sam didn't get to work until after lunch, Santana knew something was up. Trying to maintain control of her emotions, she confronted him in the conference room.

"What the hell, Sam? It's been over a week and you still have nothing?!" Santana snapped after he explained the situation.

"Santana, this happens. I told you everything we got. Witnesses couldn't provide anything substantial. The video from the pharmacy at the intersection of the accident showed the crash but also showed us that the van didn't have a license plate. We lost the van's trail a few blocks away from the scene."

Sam's voice softened. "There's nothing else we can do."

"That's great. That's just great. Some station we work in."

"Hey," Sam stood up and put his hands on the girl's shoulders. "Santana, this has nothing to do with the Sniper. It was just a coincidence, okay? You're reading too much into this."

"You don't know that," she huffed before storming out of the room. Fresh air. She needed fresh air so she briskly walked down the hallway and outside to find Puck leaning against the building taking a smoke break.

"Sunshine," he greeted with a cautious smile, already sensing the mood Santana was in. "You talk to Sam?"

"Yes."

"You okay?"

Santana crouched down next to Puck and tilted her head back against the brick. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I know you feel like you have to protect her, Santana, but that was just a freak accident. She knows that," Puck said, putting his hand on her shoulder and trying to get her to relax.

"I don't know, I just...I can't stop thinking about it. If anything happens to her...it's my fault. It would be my fault. Nothing can happen to her, Noah."

"I know. And nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah," Santana said apathetically, not totally agreeing.

"Does she know that you think it was the Sniper?"

"God, no. I didn't want to scare her."

"Good call. Just keep it to yourself, okay? It's not even for sure."

She nodded before Puck continued. "We're gonna catch the bastard soon and then you won't have to worry anymore."

"We fucking better," Santana muttered, trying to hold onto some hope.

...

A week had passed and Santana spent most of her time trying to manage and mask her anxiety over her Sniper suspicions. To compensate for her on-edge nerves, she decided to focus on being the best girlfriend possible.

Santana worked from home as much as possible. Mostly to help take care of Brittany who was still having a hard time getting around with her injuries, but also because things at the station were more stagnant than ever recently.

This particular Friday afternoon, Santana felt especially unmotivated to work. She looked for any excuse to stay away from her pile of evidence while Brittany took a nap. After a bath, a few games of Sudoku on her phone, and staring at the case files for a while, Santana heard Brittany call for her from the bedroom.

"Ahh, sleeping beauty arises," Santana teased as she walked towards the bed.

Brittany laughed and extended her arms. "Come here, pretty girl."

The brunette smiled and blushed a little bit before climbing into bed. Something about that nickname made her melt. Brittany pulled the brunette on top of her carefully to avoid putting pressure on her leg.

"Mmm," Brittany hummed against Santana's lips. "You smell yummy."

"I took a bath," she muttered, completely distracted by their proximity and roaming hands that had now settled on Santana's hips. Brittany's hands were strong. Soft, but always strong. She touched Santana with such care and precision that it seemed as though every move was calculated and planned to make her weak.

"Without me?" she smirked before capturing Santana's lips with hers.

"That wasn't very nice," she added in between delicate kisses. Brittany slipped her hands under Santana's shirt and lightly dragged her fingernails up and down her back, sending goosebumps across her skin. Santana let out a moan as she arched her back.

"I can take another," she offered before reaching to take off her shirt, allowing Brittany to unclasp her bra.

"You can," the blonde repeated, unable to think of anything else to say with the sight in front of her.

"I definitely can."

Brittany kissed and kissed Santana's addicting lips as she ran her fingers through brown hair.

"Then let's go," the dancer said after releasing Santana's bottom lip. She guided the girl off of her lap and they headed to the bathroom, stripping down as they went.

…

Since the couple had found themselves getting preoccupied with other, more fun things about living together, they hadn't bothered to unpack Brittany's things yet.

Later that evening, with more than half of Brittany's boxes still untouched, they were determined to finish unpacking. While Brittany organized the rest of her clothes, Santana sat Indian style on the floor and rummaged through the remaining boxes.

"What's this?" she asked, flipping through a case of DVDs that were labeled with sharpies.

"For my birthday one year my mom converted all our old childhood tapes into DVDs."

"Yeah? Anything good in here?"

"Most are just recitals. Some are ones put on by my dance studio and others are just ones I made my mom sit through in our living room."

Santana lit up instantly. "Can we watch?"

"We don't have to, San. Don't you wanna get this over with?" she asked, looking at the many unopened boxes in front of them.

"Not anymore. Now I really wanna see baby Britts get her dance on."

"Okay," Brittany beamed and made her way over to Santana. In the past, the people Brittany dated had no interest in watching her old dance DVDs. She'd never shown anyone else besides family before, and she'd always wanted to share that part of her with someone. In that moment, showing Santana felt perfect.

Brittany picked out her favorite DVD and cuddled up next to her girlfriend who had arranged a few blankets on the floor for them to sit on.

"This is the Spice Girls concert I put on with my sister for my family at Christmas," Brittany explained and Santana laughed in anticipation. "It's totally ridiculous."

The video started when a brunette teenager, who Brittany said was her older cousin, announced Brittany as the evening's main entertainment.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Brittany S. Pierce! Not to be confused with Britney Spears. This girl is way more talented," the teen proclaimed and the camera shifted to a 9 year old Brittany. Then the song Wannabe by the Spice Girls started playing and the blonde began dancing. When the chorus hit, Meredith appeared in the frame and began mimicking Brittany's every move.

The video continued for a few more songs and the two girls could not control their laughter. Santana was convinced it was one of the cutest things she'd ever seen. And if it wasn't clear before, the video proved that Brittany was a natural and extremely talented dancer. Even as a kid, she danced in a way Santana had never seen before.

After the Spice Girls recital video ended, the couple went through a few more DVDs before they decided to call it a night. Santana loved getting an insight into Brittany's early life, and she loved listening to the blonde's infectious laugh next to her even more.

When they moved themselves from the ground to their bed, a wave of exhaustion hit Brittany hard. Santana got her a glass of water and her nightly pain meds before crawling into bed next to her.

"Thanks for doing that with me," Brittany said with a sleepy voice.

"Thanks for showing me," the brunette replied.

Santana knew what was coming next. It was her favorite part of going to sleep next to Brittany. She never got sick of hearing those three words.

"I love you," the dancer said softly before drifting off into sleep.

...

Brittany's physical therapy regimen was becoming more and more intense as she was regaining her strength. Instead of going to PT once a week, she now went three times. She wore a brace on her leg that allowed her to walk very cautiously and without bending her knee. This brace let her walk without crutches too, which was a huge plus. The cast on her wrist was also exchanged for a small wrap for support, which allowed for a bigger range of motion.

On this particular day, Brittany went to physical therapy early in the morning and returned more exhausted than she had ever been. As soon as she got home, she crashed for a rewarding nap. When she awoke, Santana was laying next to her, using her elbow to prop herself up.

"Hey," the brunette smirked.

"Hi, you," Brittany replied, more surprised than anything to see the brunette home at what she guessed was around noon "What are you doing here?"

"Work was slow today. And I couldn't stop thinking about my girl at home."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," Santana purred, still smiling. "Do you wanna do something?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Whatever you want."

A mischievous grin spread on Brittany's face. "I have an idea. You may not like it. It involves the kitchen."

"Oye. That's okay. I'm sticking to my word. Whatever you want, babe."

"Can I teach you how to cook my favorite dinner?"

If it were anyone else asking, Santana would've told them to forget it. But it was Brittany. And she was still recovering from the accident, which made her helpless and somehow even more adorable than usual. Before Santana could even think, she responded quickly with,

"Yes."

Brittany smiled like she knew she got away with something.

...

After a run to the store and a disastrous and hilarious afternoon in the kitchen, Brittany had successfully taught Santana how to make stir-fry. It didn't turn out to be too bad either, and after they ate, they made their way to their room.

The TV hummed idly in the background while Santana played with blonde hair as Brittany laid in her lap.

"Can I ask you something?" Santana said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Anything."

"How come you didn't give up on me at Starbucks?"

"What do you mean?" Brittany said, sitting up after noting the serious and almost sad tone of her girlfriend's voice.

"I was just thinking about how we met today. And I turned you down so many times but you kept coming back. I remember...I remember some mornings I expected you not to show up because I didn't deserve for you to. But you always did. I don't know if I could have done the same."

Brittany thought back to the first couple of weeks with Santana. She could remember the thrill of meeting someone special - the thrill of having something to look forward to every morning. She could remember telling her friends about this girl she had met who was completely consuming her mornings and her thoughts throughout the day. She could remember how she wanted to know everything she could about Santana. And how strange it was that she had never felt more comfortable with someone she had just met.

It was exciting and unfamiliar. It was something she had definitely never experienced before. Brittany cleared her throat and took Santana's hand. She ran her fingers through the gaps between Santana's.

"I think at first I was just infatuated with this mysterious, super sexy brunette. I mean, honestly baby, in those sunglasses and work suits - you were irresistible," Brittany smirked and subconsciously licked her bottom lip.

"My ridiculous good looks couldn't have been the only thing that brought you back," Santana teased in return.

"Well they certainly didn't hurt," Brittany grinned and rested her head back in Santana's lap. The girl resumed running her fingers through blonde hair and Brittany closed her eyes as she thought of her real answer. "I don't know, San...there was just something about you. You pulled me in."

Realizing she has having a hard time putting her thoughts to words, she shrugged before continuing, "Maybe I knew even then."

"Knew what?"

She opened her eyes before responding, "That I could love you."

The words rolled off Brittany's tongue so effortlessly that Santana was suddenly very aware of her fluttering heartbeat.

"You really think so?"

"Yes. I can't describe it any other way."

A few moments passed before Santana could muffle her butterflies to respond. "God, you really are amazing, you know that?"

"I know," Brittany shrugged sarcastically and laughed before leaning up so their lips were only centimeters apart.

"But not nearly as amazing as you," she whispered before practically attacking Santana with kisses.

...

An hour or so later, the two were still wasting the evening away in bed. It was past 11 when Santana's phone began buzzing on the nightstand. She groaned and rolled over to answer Puck's call.

"Lopez, you have to come in," he said as calmly as possible.

"What is it? Can't it wait till tomorrow?" Santana said with annoyance in her voice as Brittany giggled and began kissing up her neck.

"No, it can't. He's back."

"What? What do you mean?"

"There's not another victim...he just, he left us a note."

"Jesus fuck," Santana's breath began to quicken as she took a second to collect herself before getting out of bed. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

She hung up and turned to see Brittany still under the covers, face pale with worry.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," she said, as she got dressed. "But I'm sorry, Britt. I gotta go in."

"What happened?"

"I'll be back as soon as I can, okay? Don't wait up for me," Santana deflected the question and hastily gave Brittany a kiss on the cheek.

"Santana, what's -," she started but was cut off.

"We'll talk about it later, okay? Get some sleep, love," Santana pleaded before kissing the blonde again, this time sincerely on the lips.

Brittany nodded, but she knew sleep at this point was going to be hard to come by. She watched as her girlfriend put on a brave face and headed out the door.

...

On the way to the station, the timing of recent events was all Santana could think about. After being MIA for months, the Sniper returned shortly after Brittany's accident. Her suspicions grew by the minute as she entered the conference room to see Finn and Puck talking in hushed voices.

"Detective Lopez," Finn greeted, and Santana could hear his fear.

"What's it say?" she asked, ignoring the agent and directing her question at Puck.

"Take a look. We've been staring at it for almost an hour straight," he offered, handing her the bagged evidence of a piece of paper no bigger than a post-it.

The note was clearly from the Sniper. It matched his handwriting and included his infamous signature. A chill ran down Santana's spine as she read the written text.

_Miss me? Michigan, Racine, Wacker. Coming soon. _

"Michigan, Racine, Wacker," her mouth was dry as she repeated the street names again. She sat down for a few minutes as her mind raced to solve this fucked up riddle.

"Michigan, Racine, Wacker. All major streets in the city, right?"

Puck nodded and she continued to think out loud.

"Okay so all locations in the city. Maybe the locations represent his next victims? Numbers 17, 18, 19? Maybe he already has them picked out. Maybe..." she continued, the words spewing out like word vomit now. "Maybe he has already stalked them. That explains his absence. He's been at work this whole time."

Reading Santana's mind, Puck finished her thought. "Maybe he plans to kill them somewhere on those streets."

"Jesus Christ," Finn muttered, almost speechless after witnessing the partners piece that together in front of him. "Wait, but why would he give you a clue like that?"

"Because he likes to try and outsmart us. He gives us riddles and we still can't catch him. It's all part of the thrill for him," Puck explained.

"Where'd you find the note?" Santana asked.

"Under the wind shield wiper of our car," he replied. "Already ran it through the lab. No prints or traces of anything unusual."

Santana sat down and took a deep breath. She listened, as it was now Puck's turn to verbalize his train of thought.

"So it's safe to assume that these people, these next victims, frequent at least one of those streets on a daily basis. Maybe they work near close to the street or something."

As he talked, Finn grabbed a notebook and began feverishly writing to document everything being said. "We should set up a perimeter isolating the areas the Sniper would be likely to make his move. We can eliminate whole blocks depending on their traffic levels. We know the Sniper doesn't strike in highly populated or busy areas."

Santana nodded and tried to follow along but she was a bit distracted. Her phone buzzed from an incoming text, bringing her back to reality. It was from Brittany.

_Hope everything is okay. Thinking of you. Come home soon._

She typed back a response fast.

_As soon as I can. Everything's fine, baby. Get to sleep. xo_

After putting down her phone, she tried to follow along with Puck. He continued to list off his ideas on how they should counteract the Sniper's future moves but for some reason, Santana couldn't focus on what he was saying. Something else was bothering her. She couldn't quite pin point it so she tried to sort through the unorganized thoughts that were clouding her mind.

Michigan, Racine, Wacker. 17, 18, 19. Brittany.

Sniper note. Accident. Coming soon.

Brittany. Michigan, Racine, Wacker. Accident.

And that's when it hit her.

"Brittany's accident happened at the corner of Racine and Lawrence," she interrupted, her voice completely monotone.

"Who?" Finn chirped, wearing that confused face that Santana despised.

"Brittany's accident happened at the corner of Racine and Lawrence," she repeated again in disbelief.

Puck put his hand to his mouth calmly and let her words sink in.

"Now don't freak out, San. That still doesn't prove anything. That's a busy intersection. Her studio isn't even on Racine," he began, trying to think of anything else that would convince Santana her theory was mistaken.

"She could be one of those numbers. She could be Racine," Santana interrupted again, this time with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Santana, she's not Racine."

Feeling as though he was witnessing something he shouldn't be, Agent Hudson excused himself from the room before Santana's breakdown escalated. Puck made his way around the conference table to sit next to Santana as she buried her face in her hands and let herself cry.

"She's not Racine, okay? It's this fucking case. It's getting to you," Puck insisted as he rubbed her back.

"She's the best thing I've ever had," Santana mustered up between sobs.

"I know, San. And you're allowed to have good things. Don't try and convince yourself you don't. Don't make this into something it's not. She's not Racine."

Santana heard what he said but couldn't respond because she didn't know what to say. All she could think about was that the possibility existed. She could be Racine. But no. She couldn't be Racine because that would mean it was Santana's fault. Her thoughts spiraled and Puck continued to sooth her until she finally calmed down almost 20 minutes later.

"Go home, Lopez. Go home to Britt. We can figure this out tomorrow."

With eyes red and swollen, she nodded and packed up her things.

"She's not Racine," Puck assured her before Santana walked out the door.

"She's not Racine," she echoed, although she wasn't sure if she truly believed it.


End file.
